Time River
by Lalaith Quetzalli
Summary: Some say that time is like a river, it has a start, middle and end; if so, then maybe people are the water, moving through it, through life, from birth to death. If so, what about the water taken out of the river before its end, which turns into vapor and falls down as rain on an earlier point? In the end water is more than a river, as are life, death, time... (Time-travel fix-it)
1. A Kiss in a Dream

Chapter summary: War broke out, and the pack lost, when the end of the world seems imminent, Lydia and Stiles put in practice Peter's last crazy plan: time travel.

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And here we go... because I'm a crazy person, I offer you now, the insane time-travel sort-of fix-it fic you probably never asked of but I still wrote anyway! Like I said, I'm a crazy person. I've always loved time-travel fix-it fics. The way you can take the full person the character is at the end of a series and place him at the very beginning, push him to correct all his/her mistakes (and why not? make some completely new ones along the way!). I always knew I wanted to write one such fic for TW, but wasn't sure how to handle it, as I didn't want my fic to end up being a repeat of others I've read (some of them very, very good). In the end, I'll admit that not all my ideas are completely original, but what is nowadays? I did the best I could.

The fic itself will be in six parts and the updates will happen anywhere from weekly to monthly, depending on my time and the interest people show in the fic (no, I'm not holding the story hostage, I don't do that anymore, I literally need people to remind me I need to update because when I get into other things I tend to forget!).

The name for the story and for all the chapters comes from a song called "Listen to the Wind", sung by Hayley Westenra, and which is the theme song for "The New World". I love the song very much, have used it in several of my fics, mostly by having the main character sing it. This time it served in many ways as inspiration. If you can, you should listen to it, it might help you get into the mood for this fic.

Main pairings for this fic: Stiles/Derek, Lydia/Jackson, Scott/Allison, Erica/Boyd, and other minor ones that will be added along the way.

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**A Kiss in a Dream **

"Time is a river that flows endlessly, and a life is a whisper…"

"Are you seriously singing right now?" A female voice cuts him off abruptly.

He stops singing immediately, truth be told, he didn't even know he was singing (more like muttering, but he thinks they might have been the lyrics to a song, he isn't sure). He's tall, almost a full 6 ft., lean but well-muscled, whiskey brown eyes with a hint of gold on the edges, dark brown hair a tad long, messy, and a good deal of facial hair (though that's mostly more due to the lack of chance to get a good cut and a shave, rather than actual choice); he's in dark clothes and thick boots, it's what he always wore nowadays, no more plaid, crazy printed shirts or bright-red hoodies. Beside him stands a young woman in equally dark clothes, black dyed hair that looks like it's been cut by less than expert hands, and her natural red is beginning to show in her roots, hazel eyes that look closer to brown than green. She looks about the same age than him (in their twenties, except for their eyes, which look like they belong on people at least three times their ages) and is 5 ft 3 in tall.

"Don't look at me like that, Stiles." She goes on at his distracted look. "It's not like you have the ADHD as an excuse anymore."

No he doesn't because, as it turned out, he never actually had ADHD. It was the magic, fizzling under his skin, begging to be let out. That much energy with no outlet? It made it hard for him to sleep, to focus on a single thing… except when it was a matter of life or death, when he would unknowingly end up using it to keep himself and those he loved alive, then he would get hyper-focused. There was a reason why Malia once said he seemed to have a hell of a lot of luck. It wasn't luck, it was belief, the strength of his will getting him (and all of them really) through everything… until it simply wasn't enough anymore.

Stiles hates Alan Deaton. Hates the man for all the things he's done, like working with their enemies, healing them, but most especially: for pushing and twisting and downright making Scott into an Alpha, and then giving them all that stupid tale of 'True Alphas'. It was all a load of bullshit, Stiles always knew that, not because he thinks that no one could possibly be meant to be an Alpha, to be able to deserve it without having to inherit or kill for the rank, but because he just knows there's no way that a boy who never liked being a werewolf, who spent a great deal of time outright hating it, could be meant to be the alpha of a pack. More than even that, he hates Deaton for the things he never did: like helping Peter when he was in a coma, or Derek and Laura when they were effectively destitute and forced to run for their lives, like helping Derek at any point since his return to Beacon Hills (or Laura for that matter), or how about warning Alpha Hale about the threat against her pack?! There's no way the man didn't know about Kate Argent, or at the very least suspected, yet he did absolutely nothing about it. All in the name of his so-called balance! Some balance! The world is effectively going to hell around them!

It would be funny… except for where it's really, really not. Stiles can still remember sitting on the big couch on his living room, watching the Walking Dead every week with his dad, or the times he would watch movies like World War Z, Zombieland, or Resident Evil with Scott, or even the pack (back when there still was a pack as such). They'd have long talks after the movie, or sometimes even throughout it, about what they'd do if they were in the movie, how long each of them might survive… no one ever thought he'd survive long, not even Stiles himself. The world might not have turned into a zombie movie, not exactly, but it's somehow even worse than that, because the dead aren't rising, they're staying dead and the emptiness… it's smothering somehow. So many people have died… Stiles wouldn't be surprised to find out there's less than a million total world-wide. Lydia (his partner, his once-true-love, his truest-sister) actually did some kind of insane mathematical equation which told them an approximate number but he cannot remember, it's not like it matters much in the grand scheme of things.

It wasn't that bad at first… well, it was bad for him, but not for everyone else. Monroe never gave up. She kept returning, kept building up her organization, until it wasn't just them anymore, but others as well. She had it in for them above anyone else. She saw how dangerous they were, even if she never fully understood the reason. She thought it was about Scott being a True Alpha, that that was the reason why so many other packs would seek council with theirs, why those that survived the annihilation of their own packs would seek to join them; but it was never Scott, it was always Derek… and Stiles too. Derek was one of the last Hales, a wolf who could fully shift, who had the power of an alpha even being a beta, who'd sacrificed his position and power as an alpha to protect his sister. And Stiles… he was the detective, the tactician, the mage… He was never an Emissary, Deaton refused to train him when Stiles told him in a no-nonsense tone that he'd never swear fealty to Scott.

It was something Deaton never understood, mainly because he was always on Scott's side and refused to so much as contemplate that the 'True Alpha' (or the Druid himself) might be wrong. The vet never understood that the pack was never the same after Theo. Neither Stiles nor Lydia ever forgot the way Scott believed someone else, someone who wasn't really pack (and ended being pretty much a villain) over them, over the boy he'd once called brother. It's something that hurt him, a lot, some days it still does. The memory of the boy Scott was, the boys they both were, and everything they lost… for the longest time Stiles actually blamed himself, thinking that if he'd never lead Scott into the woods that night the other boy would have never been turned, and nothing else would have happened either… Scott didn't choose to be a werewolf, but it's not like it was all bad, he'd have never been first-line in lacrosse, never caught Allison's eye (and later on Kira's, Malia's, and so on…) if he hadn't been a were. But Scott insisted on taking advantage of the good things all while complaining about the bad, and the very fact of being a were. Stiles and Lydia had been effectively running the pack for him… until the fall-out. And when they all came together again… Stiles was pragmatic enough to understand about the 'needs of the many'; so he'd swallowed his pride and his anger and worked with Scott and the pack. But from that moment on it had been just that: work.

So really, it was no surprise when he refused to swear fealty, no surprise for him at least, or for Lydia. Scott of course complained, whined like a brat, while Kira and Theo called him childish; the junior members refused to comment, obviously knowing it wasn't their business. Stiles honestly has no idea who became Emissary once he and Lydia left back for college after the fight against the Anuk-Ite, he does know they didn't live long once the true war began.

It wasn't that bad at first. Scott would call on them every so often, whenever a serious number of hunters got too close to Beacon Hills. They'd answer the call, then split again. Working for a branch of the FBI devoted entirely to the supernatural allowed him to take off when necessary. Unlike others, like Lydia (doing grad studies in MIT), Cora (who'd long since left for South America again), Issac (living in France), Peter (who'd gone to work as a lawyer in San Francisco) and Malia (who, after Scott cheated on her with a were from another pack, broke up with him and moved to San Fran to go to college). Then one of the packs, down in Mexico, got it into their heads to go after hunters before they could attack them… it was a blood-bath, so many dead it made international news. And the worst part? Most hadn't even been hunters.

That was the beginning. Stiles learned there was such a thing as a Council of Hunters, they called for blood, and sent some of their best after the pack in Mexico. The ensuing deaths were so bad that the world was convinced cartels were fighting it out or something. After that it was only a matter of time before the truth was made public. With practically everyone in the world in possession of cellphones with cameras… it was to be expected. Even if the first few (dozen) were called hoaxes, manips, special effects, more and more people believed until it was finally out: Werewolves existed!

The FBI finally activated his team then. He was second in command, with Rafael McCall in charge, as the two of them were the only ones with actual experience where the supernatural was concerned. And while Stiles still didn't like the douchebag, he was mature enough to be able to work with the older man. By then he'd made a name for himself, most packs saw him as the second of the Beacon Hills pack (even though he wasn't, Scott would have never given him that kind of power… but then again, the ones who saw him in such light still respected Derek Hale above the so-called 'True Alpha McCall'…). They somehow even managed to keep things under control in most of the US for a couple of years (much longer than he ever expected). And then the rumor reached him of a huge op that was coming. An op not to negotiate a treaty, but to eliminate a pack… a pack that wasn't even a threat!

Stiles didn't even have to think about it, he left his gun, badge, and the rudest resignation letter ever written on his desk before taking off at top speed. Calling in a favor a coven owed him he managed to make it to Texas just in time to warn them of the impending attack. Some still died, but certainly not as many as the FBI surely hoped for. They also put out a warrant for him, but Stiles didn't care. A very slight glamour spell and not even the best facial recognition software could identify him.

That was when people got stupid. The FBI turned their eyes to Beacon Hills, which was only to be expected; Rafael tried to save his son, while at the same time give them the rest of the pack; Scott himself was angrier that Stiles's actions had turned the government's eyes to them, than the fact that the second biggest pack in the country would have died if he hadn't intervened. It was like Stiles and Lydia had always said, Scott wasn't really meant to be an alpha, he didn't care enough about pack, not even about his own.

Whatever the government might have promised Rafael, they failed to deliver. That was, officially, the opening salvo of the war. As if things hadn't been bad enough with the actual hunters against them, having the government wanting to kill them too… Stiles always knew they'd lose, he just never thought of how much they actually had to lose, or how much it'd hurt.

A howl cuts the mage off from his ruminations. Lydia and him just turn to look at each other, nodding once before sprinting out of the derelict house and taking off at a run, a big pitch-black wolf with glowing red eyes joining them in the race and taking the lead but a second later. It takes no time at all for them all to begin hearing the dogs, the hunting-dogs, they're being hunted… it isn't exactly a new thing, really, they've been on the run since the fall of the Beacon Hills pack, six months prior.

No one ever expected them to last this long, not even Stiles and Lydia themselves. Scott, Kira and most of their pack died together, in a huge fight six months ago; though a few had been lost in the months prior, more and more as Tamora's forces, and the government, continued to invade the town. Stiles knew Rafael tried to get Scott out but he refused to go, he'd been almost feral since the loss of Melissa and Chris the previous month. Chris had been so sure he could force the hunters to leave Beacon Hills, convinced that the Argent name still meant something… he was wrong, and it cost both him and his wife their lives. It made Scott feral, he wanted to make the hunters pay, and that was the excuse the government used to go after them; there was nothing Rafael could do except blow the whole place up after he accepted his son was gone…

Deaton was the next to fall, after Scott, Kira and theirs. They actually tried to save him, though for the life of him Stiles had no idea why. It turned out to be a mistake, and also a trap. The government had known about Deaton already; they had done nothing because they were using him to find the others, they knew not the whole pack died in the McCall house. Though Stiles wasn't that sure he and the others could be truly considered part of the same pack; neither of them had ever truly seen Scott as their Alpha. Anyway, like idiots, they went. Peter died that day, saving their lives: Stiles's, Derek's, Lydia's, and Malia's… Stiles would never forget Deaton's last words before they fled:

"_I think I made a mistake…" _

There was no way of knowing what the hell he'd meant. Did he regret making Scott a True Alpha? Not training Stiles? Betraying the Hales? Deaton had done, and not done a hell of a lot, all in the name of balance, and for what? The world was effectively ending anyway!

They'd gone to ground after that, the four of them, as well as the Sheriff (Parrish died making sure the sheriff got out when the government tried to take him, to use him to get to the pack). They spent months in the preserve, continuously moving around. They couldn't even leave the territory, not with the hunters and the government pretty much everywhere. There were still a few people in town who'd take pity on them, give them whatever they could spare when they saw them, but they didn't risk it often, for everyone involved. Sometimes they hunted, others they were simply forced to steal… it was awful, Noah had been the Sheriff, and Stiles his kid, they never expected to become criminals…

Malia was caught during one of their incursions. She'd managed to find a clerk distracted and got a lot of food, so giddy for the success, she got distracted, and it cost her. She managed to evade the shots, the worst being an arrow that slashed her arm; but they were herding her, and upon realizing that, she did all she could think of: she shifted and gave them the slip. It never occurred to her that the arrow that nicked her had been coated in wolfsbane, the worst kind, and that the body of a coyote was much smaller than a humanoid one, the exertion making her heart beat faster… they found her hours later, by the side of a river, her body was already cold.

Noah was the last to go, to sickness rather than anything else. Stiles was convinced that either the government or the hunters had poisoned the river they took water from, much as his father said he was just too old to live in the wild… Stiles was so terrified about losing him he was even willing to risk going into the town to get medicines, Lydia knocked him out for a while. Then woke him up just in time to say goodbye to his dad, too late for anything else. He refused to speak to her for two weeks after that.

Derek was the one to find Peter's notes, his insane plan. They spent the past two weeks preparing everything for it. Peter had actually gathered most of what was needed; apparently he was going to propose it all to them just before things went to hell in a hand-basket for good.

It's not like things were any better outside Beacon Hills than they were in. The same thing was going on everywhere. Stiles would never forget when the loup-garou pack in Europe fell. They had been the biggest pack, with a territory that took most of Europe (from France all the way to Romania). They'd all been hunted down, their deaths coming one after the other in such a way that most would find it impossible to believe… that was also the night they were forced to bind Lydia, she wouldn't have survived feeling (and screaming through) that much death. Still, it turned out that not all the governments in Europe agreed with such a move, and then war was declared. It was the beginning of the end…

Stiles had always wondered what would happen if the world (the humans) ever discovered the existence of the supernatural… he's never cursed his curiosity so badly. What wouldn't he give up not to have ever gotten an answer to that question?

But that's why they are there. Well, not to forget the answer, that he… they cannot do, but they might just be able to undo it, undo everything. That was Peter's great, final plan: time travel. They are going to go back far enough so that Monroe will never be able to pull the hunters together like she did, so the government will never get involved (hopefully will never find out about the pack) who knows? By some miracle they might even get far enough back to keep the Nogitsune from being released!

That's yet another thing he'll always hate Deaton for. That thing he had them do, where they became 'surrogate sacrifices'? It wasn't necessary at all. Stiles didn't find that out until much later, but as it turned out, the three of them had been by the Nemeton before, they could have simply done a ritual to bring those memories to the forth of their minds, without giving of themselves to the tree; without finishing the darach's five-fold knot, or turning the 'beacon' back on. But Deaton wanted the Nemeton to have power once again, not for Jennifer, or even for the pack, he wanted the power for himself.

As it turned out, Alan Deaton wasn't born with power. Born to a druid line, he hadn't had a single drop of magic. Alan had been envious of his little sister, the one who'd all the power, who was invited to be part of dozens of packs and covens. Then he met Marin Morrell, a witch with very little power of her own, but who was good at drawing power from amulets, crystals, and at times even the elements. She taught Alan enough that he could pass for a druid. It was completely accidental that he met Talia Hale when he did, shortly after the death of her previous emissary (who'd died while trying, and failing to save the Nemeton, which had been originally poisoned by none other than Gerard Argent, made worse by Morrell when she tried to extract what power was left in it). The thing was, Deaton always wanted to be an emissary, believed it to be some position of power and honor, of recognition… when it wasn't like that at all. Also, he'd no idea what being an emissary was really about, which might explain why he was so awful at it. Either that or he simply hadn't cared at all.

Stiles knows all that, because the Nemeton 'told' him. It turns out that the same thing that made the Nogitsune want him for its host (and perhaps also managing to survive said possession) in the end made him worthy of the very power Deaton (and Morrell) always craved. The power that will, hopefully, make it possible for Lydia and him to travel back in time.

Derek isn't going. Stiles hates that, but he understands the necessity of it. It's going to be hard enough to push both Lydia and himself back far enough… but they both know neither of them will be able to handle living in the past without someone knowing the truth, and the chances of anyone else believing them were close to nil… Really, Stiles loves his dad, but the man had a hard time accepting the supernatural existed at first; it's likely that the only reason things didn't get worse back then was because the darach kidnapping the 'guardians' so shortly after the 'big reveal' served to show Noah Stilinski how real it all was. And Natalie Martin… while she might have become a sort-of ally eventually, and she certainly did what she could before Lydia sent her away (only for her to die when the plane she was in, bound to Italy, crashed), for the longest time she refused to see how special Lydia is, and not just because she's a mathematical genius. So Stiles and Lydia decided to take the risk of not being able to go back as far, in order to have both of them make the trip. Derek is watching over them until then.

While they might not want to think about it, another reason Derek can't make the trip is that there simply isn't enough power in him to connect with the spell. Derek's dying… mistletoe poisoning. Less than what the darach used in Cora during their junior year of high-school; between that and Stiles's will he's managing to hold on, but it won't last forever. Not that he plans to live long after Stiles and Lydia are gone; he isn't even sad about it. Truth is Derek's just so awfully tired after everything… he wants to stop fighting, to rest, finally… Much as it might break their hearts, neither of the others can begrudge him that. They would be all for resting too except… except if they give up, that means their enemies won, it means that all the tragedies, all the deaths, all they've done and sacrificed has been for naught. That simply cannot be allowed.

"We're ready." Lydia announces.

They are. Neither of the two says a word as they undress (it's necessary for the ritual). Once naked they climb onto the Nemeton's stomp and kneel there, the stars above them. It's the night of the new moon, the dark moon, the best time for destructive magicks… and that's effectively what they are going to do. Because time-travel isn't really about going back, changing something and then returning; it can't be done like that, paradoxes would be hell on something like that. Instead time-travel is about destroying what exists, to put something new in its place. They are effectively winding back time and starting over from a certain point on.

It's why that spell is truly a last resource. The kind of thing that, if the whole world wasn't going to hell they probably wouldn't dare use. Because as much as they might be hurting, it wouldn't be fair for others, for the humans, the innocent… except it isn't just them hurting, dying. It's everyone, everywhere. And so they'll go back.

The elements are called and the circle is blessed: air, fire, water and earth; and mountain ash to reinforce the nature of the magic being used, and so they begin. Lydia is the only one that needs to actually say the words, as she's a witch, and needs them to focus the power she's drawing from the Nemeton (with Stiles's help and blessing). Stiles just needs to push his will into the spell. Derek is outside the circle, pacing. He knows that the magic will call attention sooner or later; he's there to make sure no one stops things before it's all done.

Soon enough the time comes for the next part: the one that will seal the ritual: the sacrifice. They have everything ready. First there's the phial, full of poison extracted from aconite root. Perhaps not the best poison ever, but certainly fitting for the two of them. They've measured the dose to be sure they will drink it and still manage to finish the ritual.

Stiles uncorks the phial, takes a swing of about half its contents and swallows instantly, then offers it to Lydia:

"Philosopher to philosopher…" He calls solemnly.

It's the final piece of the ritual. They cannot manage a five-fold-knot; not enough people; though a part of Stiles does wonder if, given enough time, he might have been able to create a ritual that allowed them to use the deaths of their pack… Useless thoughts to have, they have no more time, a three-fold death for the two of them will have to do.

Lydia handles the next part. Taking hold of a small, black, ring-knife she takes a deep breath before slashing down her left arm, a long, deep cut which begins to bleed a lot right away. She just lets her arm fall, the blood flowing down it and onto the tree beneath them.

"Warrior to warrior…" She forces herself to speak even through the awful burning pain.

Stiles accepts the knife without a word and slashes down his own left arm before placing the knife back on the trunk of the tree, beside the empty phial.

The two are breathing raggedly by then, the mix of poison and the slash making things hard; but they knew they'd be, and they both are certainly strong-willed enough to push through.

It's then that everything goes to hell…

Shots announce they've been found, promptly followed by Derek's howling as he throws himself at them, fighting to give Stiles and Lydia time to finish what they've begun. The two young adults reach for the last two objects on the tree: long, thin blades, at the same time.

"Guardian to guardian…" She calls, a moment later noticing she was the only one to say them.

Stiles is distracted. He can hear Derek's pained groans, he's been shot several times, and its bad. It's only made worse when he sees the flash of metal, a sword! followed by Derek's long whine, he's been slashed violently. He can hardly fight anymore…

"Derek!" Stiles cries out in horror.

"Stiles! Focus!" Lydia demands.

She's crying too, and it's not because of her own pain (though she's certainly in a hell of a lot…), it's because of Derek.

Lydia raises her knife again, waiting for Stiles to direct his eyes at her again and do the same. Then waits even further as he takes a deep breath and the two finally pronounce at the same time:

"Guardian to guardian…"

One more deep breath, and then the two proceed to stab themselves in the chest.

Neither of them cry out, not really; terrible as the pain might be, it's just adding onto earlier pain, so it doesn't really shock them.

What shocks them though is as Derek's next howl is cut off abruptly. That makes them turn, in time to see him slam against the invisible barrier created by the mountain ash. They both open their mouths to cry, except nothing leaves their throats… there's no more air in their lungs for them to speak, not with the blades that pierced their chests.

Poison, cut (bleed-out) and stab; their own version of the three-fold death; their willing sacrifice to the Nemeton, so it might grant them their request, to destroy the world they're in and send them back so they might create a better future.

The shock only escalates as Derek stumbles, falling right through the barrier; it's not broken, everyone can still see the mountain ash laid in a circle around the tree stump, yet Derek still goes through, falling on his front right between the last two members of his pack… he tries to get up, not quite noticing when his body changes from wolf to mostly-human; he forces himself to his hands and knees and then is face to face with Stiles, who is also trying to get closer yet barely able to move. For just a fraction of a second they touch, their lips connect, the lightest of brushes, and then Derek is falling and Stiles cannot catch him, cannot even scream… all he can do is watch and listen as a heart stops beating…

Stiles is completely breathless, for more than just the stab to his chest, as the memories hit him:

_He remembers a sixteen-year-old Derek, sitting outside the Sheriff's office, shell-shocked; Stiles never knew for sure what made him approach the older boy, he just went. _

_Remembers the next time he saw Derek, six years later, so handsome and so closed off, and Stiles still felt the need to be close, though he just had no idea how. _

_Remembers all the times the older male would slam him against something (a door, a wall, his jeep), yet Stiles was never afraid of him… _

_Stiles has no idea when things shifted, when it was no longer about Scott, about helping his brother handle his new life, and instead all he wanted was to find some way to help Derek, to earn his respect, his friendship, his… _

_Fighting an insane Peter, for Derek… _

_Watching Derek's eyes glow red for the first time… _

_Derek using his Alpha-power to keep him safe… _

_Two hours spent in a pool, doing everything he could to keep both of them afloat… _

_Taking the worst beating of his life, refusing to breathe a word about the pack… _

_Working together, feeling that for the first time he truly belongs somewhere… _

So many times, so many moments… they were always connected, and he didn't realize the fact, the meaning behind it all, until he was gone, and Stiles feels the hole in his soul…

The last thing that goes through Stiles's mind, right as the magic takes effect, is the song he was unconsciously singing earlier:

"Time is a river that flows endlessly

And a life is a whisper, a kiss in a dream..."

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So... like? Not like? Wanna send the wolves after me for ending it here? Yeah, I know that's a hell of a way to end things, but it just felt right. On the good news, the next chapter is already written. Really, all but the last chapter are already written so... review and you'll get what's next sooner?

I really hope you'll like this, will be interested in reading it.

Full sized poster can be found in DA, where I go by Princess-Lalaith. Haven't yet decided if I'll make a wallpaper or not (suggestions are welcome).

See ya around!


	2. A Life is a Whisper

Chapter summary: Back in time, and over a year earlier than planned, Stiles and Lydia have to make the hard choices on the best ways to keep those they love safe, even as they wonder about their once pack.

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And here we are! The second part. Several of my readers hoped for things that I'm afraid I cannot deliver, doing the story the way they wished would be too hard, and I'm afraid I would end up giving you all more of the same, the kind of story that's been written time and again. I try to give my stories new twists. So I decided to go at this in a different way. Yes, some of the things were inspired by other fics I've read, but some are still my own ideas, I hope you'll enjoy.

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**A Life is a Whisper**

When he first wakes up, for a moment all he can think about is his bed, and the sun slipping through his open window, which he forgot to close after slipping through sometime during the night. He was an idiot, going to Lydia Martin's 'Start of the Summer' party, despite not being invited; thankfully he wasn't quite idiotic enough to go in, it would have been awful if Jackson and his jock-friends had thrown him out, again… It made him wonder at times how someone so beautiful and genius like Lydia can date such a prick… no one can argue her beauty, and he knows she's a genius, he can remember the first time she was in his class, after skipping a year, even if apparently no one else remembers that.

He's still half lost in such thoughts when he raises his left arm to cover his head (because he's too lazy to even think about getting up and actually closing the blinds or something) and then he notices the mark running down the length of his forearm… or no, not mark, a scar… a scar that looks as if he'd slashed open his arm, to commit suicide or…

"Shit!" He screams as he sits up abruptly.

It comes to him like a bucket of iced water: Lydia, the Nemeton, the ritual, the hunters, a phial, blades, bullets, blood, Derek…

"Derek!" Stiles screams next.

He rushes to his feet so fast it's no surprise he's tripping over himself and crashing loudly against the floor just a second later. It's probably a good thing his father is off at work, otherwise he'd have already gone into his room, gun in hand; Stiles is making such a racket the Sheriff would think someone's killing him!

And then there's knocking on his door.

Stiles doesn't even think about it, half tripping over his own feet and still wearing last night's clothes he rushes to the front door and opens it wide without even asking who it is… it's Lydia. Lydia, looking as perfect as always, with her long strawberry-blonde hair (which actually looks somewhat dull compared to the bright red it was when at her full-power, before she decided to dye it in order to better hide from hunters), in a skirt, blouse, heels… it's actually as he's staring at her long tresses that he realizes his beard is gone and his hair has become much shorter, the buzz-cut he used to favor in early high-school… Early high-school?!

"What the hell?!" He cries out, not quite able to process what's going on.

"Good, you're awake." Lydia states, walking right in. "Since this insane plan of Peter's worked we need to begin planning exactly what we're going to do now…"

Stiles isn't really listening to her, mortified as past-him would have been by that (outright horrified that he'd ever be able to ignore anything the amazing Lydia Martin could say… then again, that old version of him hadn't really known Lydia, or even himself for that matter). There's one thing he just cannot stop thinking about, his mind going into a crazy loop as his eyes remain fixed on the calendar hanging from the wall right in front of him. The calendar announcing it's June 19th, a Saturday… he just finished with classes the day before… which should be obvious considering he was thinking about Lydia's party just before everything hit him, but in the shock of realizing he truly time-traveled he somehow… forgot.

And then he realizes something else: it's June 19th, 2010! That's a whole year earlier of even their most optimistic plans! Never mind the Alpha Pack, Scott isn't even a werewolf yet, Peter isn't an Alpha, because it's months before Laura even drops by!

"How the hell did we make it back this far?" He finally asks out-loud.

"No idea." Lydia sniffs, honestly affronted that there is something she doesn't know. "The only thing I can think of is Derek, when he fell onto the Nemeton…"

Stiles feels close to sobbing at that. That's one image he'll never be able to get out of his head, it'll probably give him nightmares for ages: Derek dying before him, and Stiles unable to do a thing, to even give him any comfort… though what comfort was there to be given by that point?

"He was poisoned, then got shot and stabbed by those hunters." Lydia goes on, forcing herself to remain objective. "His own three-fold-death. I think the Nemeton took the sacrifice and it allowed us to draw on more power, to come back further."

"What do we do now?" Stiles finally asks, feeling so incredibly small in that moment.

He's done so much, survived so much… yet in that moment he's no idea what to do… at all. They planned to travel to the past, yes. But the plan basically consisted on arming themselves, recruiting Derek, Peter and perhaps even Scott, Issac and the Argents and storming the old bank during the closest new moon so they might get Erica, Boyd and Cora… also, if they were very, very lucky they might have even been able to take one or even two alphas out at the same time. They wouldn't have expected a banshee, and especially not a mage of Stiles's caliber. It would have worked out… they'd have made it work out.

And now they're back a whole year early, and Stiles has no idea what to do…

"That's what we gotta decide." She announces.

**xXx**

They don't decide right away, not until almost the end of the month. And even then the one thing they both manage to agree on is to keep Scott from becoming a were, if they can.

"He was never happy as a werewolf." Stiles murmurs to himself.

"He loved all the pros and never stopped complaining about the cons." Lydia scoffs.

"But what about his asthma?" Stiles asks next. "I mean, I know you never knew Scott well at this stage. His asthma is bad. Like, really, really, bad. It could kill him, bad."

"I've thought about that." Lydia nods. "We could heal him."

"What?!" He certainly isn't expecting that.

"You do remember I'm a genius, right?" She smiles mischievously at him.

"How do we do that?" He wants to know.

"You leave that to me." She replies.

She's definitely the genius. She knows it can be done. It's not anything the FDA would approve, but it's not like she plans on asking for permission, or even let anyone know they're doing it. The McCalls can see it as a freaking miracle and be done with it, as far as she's concerned.

"What about Peter?" Stiles asks next.

"What about him?" Lydia inquires, on guard, like she always is when it comes to the zombie-wolf; Uncle Creeper, as Stiles sometimes called him.

"Well, he's still in the hospital, in a coma." He reminded her.

"Precisely, he's in a coma. We're not doctors Stiles. I mean, I'm fairly confident I can cook up something that will help with McCall's asthma. I know enough about herbs and magic and everything else… but Peter's an entirely different matter. At this time he's in a coma, horribly burnt and insane."

"Actually, it's not quite that simple. No, listen Lydia, listen. I know you never researched pack dynamics like I did."

"They weren't my concern. It's not like we ever were a true pack… not after Derek lost his original Alpha Spark anyway."

"Perhaps. But a lot of it I'd already researched by that point and… you know I can never leave things unfinished. I needed to know, needed to understand. If only to see what it was that had gone so wrong with us all. If it was really all Scott's fault…"

"And Deaton's…"

"Yeah, him too. But it wasn't just them. It was… it was all of us Lydia. Derek didn't know how to be an Alpha, he never learned. And Peter… well, we both know enough about how his stint as an alpha went. And that was on Talia. She never taught anyone but Laura how to be an alpha… and I'm not even sure how much she might have taught her, considering the first thing she did was abandon two thirds of her pack!"

"What?!"

"Exactly. That's my point. With Laura being the alpha, she was the center of the pack-bonds. Think about it, who survived the fire? It's wasn't just Derek; there were also Peter and Cora. The first thing Laura did after becoming Alpha was put Peter in that clinic and then she left, she abandoned her beta, her uncle… She shouldn't have done that. And… well, I actually cannot know for sure that she knew Cora was alive. Though everything I've read on the topic tells me she should have been able to sense the bond existed, even if she couldn't be sure at first who it belonged to. She must have known there was pack elsewhere, and she ignored that. She only took Derek with her."

"And it's not like she ever did much to help him."

No, she didn't. They are both painfully aware of that. All the guilt Derek carried… it's clear Laura never sat him and talked to him about the tragedy, explained to him that it wasn't his fault at all. And for that matter, how the hell did Talia not know what was going in her own house, her own pack?! First with Paige and the way that particular story ended, in tragedy; and then Kate. Stiles is almost inclined to believe that as wonderful an alpha as Talia might have been (according to what others have said, Satomi Ito and Deucalion included), she was a shit mother.

"Anyway," Stiles forces himself to focus. "Pack is important. Laura's biggest mistake was abandoning pack, whether that was just Peter, or Peter and Cora. Pack is more than just family, the way we humans understand it. It's… the bonds, they bring peace, they anchor their wolves, and they Help Heal."

"You want to give Peter a pack." It dawns on Lydia right then. "No, you want us to be his pack. You think that if we become his pack he will heal, not just physically, but mentally."

"I think it's worth trying."

Lydia purses her lips. She has never said it, but the truth is that she pretends to hate Peter more than she actually does. Either that or she hates more the fact that she understands exactly why he did the things he did, knows herself well-enough to accept she'd have done the same; that, she hates more than Peter himself. Also, she cannot forget that the man, the wolf, died so they'd live, and it wasn't just about his daughter and nephew, it was about them too: about the Sheriff, and Stiles, and her…

"Very well." She agrees after what seems like forever. "Lets do this."

It's not really as simple as they make it sound, but in the following days Stiles convinces both Melissa and his dad that he wants to be a volunteer at the hospital, that it's something to do and will look good in his college applications when the time comes. Since he's barely sixteen there's not much they can have him do. He's mostly made to help with simple things like delivering food trays, glasses of water and ice-chips, clean bed-clothes and towels when they need to be changed. It's not great, but it's enough, it gives Stiles an excuse to be at the hospital for hours every day; and he always finds an excuse to drop by Peter's room.

Eventually Melissa catches him, but that's alright, because he and Lydia had a story ready.

"Well, you know how curious I am." He excuses. "And I've been reading on all sorts of stuff. I read somewhere that it helps people in comas when you talk to them, or read to them and I thought, hey! Why not?"

"So you've been coming to talk to him?" Melissa wants to confirm that what's happening.

"Seemed like a good idea." Stiles shrugs.

"Why him?" Melissa insists.

"Because he doesn't have any visitors." The boy admits very quietly. "I've been paying attention. All the other patients in this ward… they have someone who comes at least once a week. I have yet to see anyone come visit him."

"He has a niece and nephew." Melissa reveals softly. "Though only she comes, once or twice a year, and never stays long. Talks with the doctor in charge, makes sure everything is up to date, and then leaves again. I don't think she ever talks to him, not really."

"So… is it okay if I keep doing it?" Stiles asks after what seems like forever.

"Yeah," Melissa decides after a moment. "You go ahead and do that. Who knows? It might even help him a little."

It's clear she doesn't really think it'll change much, if anything, but that's just fine with Stiles. He has enough belief all on his own.

Lydia doesn't always join him, but he gets that too. And she's there often enough. Mostly reading the paper. Because 'if Peter is going to rejoin society at full capacity he needs to know what's happening in the world', according to Lydia. Stiles gets more personal, tells him about himself, and his dad, his mom, his dreams and hopes…

**xXx**

One thing Stiles enjoys a lot is the time he spends with Scott, his brother-from-another-mother. They play video-games and practice lacrosse and basically make fools of themselves. Stiles is a bit out of practice where his friend's asthma is concerned, but in very little time he gets back into the practice of carrying an extra inhaler and keeping a close eye on him. Lydia doesn't begrudge him that, knows how important Scott is to him. Also, she takes that time to work on the cure.

It takes six weeks for something big to change, or at least for them to notice a change. Stiles is doing his shift at the hospital when there is a rush, an ambulance has just arrived with a man in an awful condition, apparently he was driving through the preserve and somehow ended crashing against a tree.

"Did he… did he really drive into the tree?" Stiles cannot help but ask after hearing all the nurses comment on it.

"Apparently some wild animal came out of the preserve and onto the road, he lost control of his car, slamming into the tree." Melissa informs him quietly, having heard the paramedics talk about what they saw on the scene.

"That's terrible." Stiles murmurs to himself.

The man dies on the table and one of the nurses hands Stiles the bag of personal effects so he can take it to the main desk, where a deputy will pick it up. It's then that he notices the driver's license in the bag: Henry Tate. He's so shocked he stops moving for a moment.

"Did you know him?" Rona, the nurse on shift at the desk, asks him.

"I… I don't think so." Stiles answers. "The name sounds somewhat familiar but I cannot remember why exactly..."

"If you've been snooping on your dad's files, that might be why." Melissa informs him with a sharp look as she approaches. "Mr. Tate lost his wife and two daughters on a terrible car accident several years ago."

"Such awful tragedies." Rona murmurs. "First the mother and daughters, and now him… why, some might think the family was cursed!"

Stiles himself has to wonder, especially since he's quite sure Henry Tate did not die in a car accident the first time around. He, in fact, died until many years later in suspicious circumstances. They had never been able to prove it, but Stiles was sure the hunters went after him in an attempt to get to Malia, only to discover that the two of them had hardly been in touch at all since the man decided to send his adopted daughter into Eichen House. While Malia did forgive him, and never really dropped the Tate from her name, she no longer saw him as his dad, not really. Peter actually managed to take that place in her heart, if only for a brief time, before their untimely deaths… it won't come to that again. Lydia and Stiles will make sure of that.

It's Lydia who has an answer to his confusion regarding the death.

"What do you remember about this day, the first time around?" She asks him.

"Not much." Stiles shrugs. "Most of the summer was pretty much the same. I spent time playing with Scott, would go for drives to kill time, that sort of thing."

"Did you ever drive through the preserve?" She asks next.

"Often." He nods, still not understanding. "It was easier. At least there less people were likely to curse me because I wouldn't drive faster…" He understands then. "You don't think…"

"It might be reaching." Lydia admits. "But it's not actually impossible. I know you never drive fast. And if the first time around you were driving through the preserve… perhaps that kept Mr. Tate from speeding down that road, being surprised when the wild animal went past."

Stiles has no words for that. To think that changes could happen just like that. The possibility never occurred to him when he decided to do that volunteer work in the hospital. That him being there means he isn't in other places, and that's changing things, even if passively…

"I'd actually thought about this." Lydia nods. "We're changing things by choosing to be in certain places, doing specific things… but also by not being where we were the first time around."

Like him not driving through the preserve… or Lydia not spending time with Jackson and his rich friends. Henry Tate was a very graphic consequence for Stiles… and her own mother was giving Lydia hers, asking her every other day why she wasn't going shopping, or to this or that party. Like Lydia's social life meant more to her mother than herself. Lydia isn't even hurt by it, she's too used to it already.

**xXx**

Stiles is still reeling with the realization that they may be changing so much already, without even being aware of it, when something wakes him up abruptly. The first thing he notices is that it's not dawn yet, the second: that it's the 1st of August…

"Lúnasa…" The boy mutters to himself.

Of course during his studies (mostly self-taught) he learned a lot not just about magic, but also about the history and folklore surrounding it, that included the 'Wheel of the Year'. Not being Wiccan or a Witch he doesn't need to follow the festivals, his magic isn't dependent of him keeping some deity, spirits, a higher power, or whatever else might exist, happy. The magic is in him… the ritual had been another matter entirely. Breaking time… that was not something even a mage with his level of power could expect to achieve; according to legend only Merlin ever had the power to do it, and even then he chose not to. Even with how much he lost, his love included, he chose to let time follow its course. Stiles is quite sure that if the end of the world hadn't been pretty much a surety by that point, even the Nemeton wouldn't have helped him and Lydia pretty much destroy the old timeline and go back.

In any case, he knows about the festivals, though he's never celebrated them. The fact that some force has woken him on that day, before dawn… one doesn't need to be a genius to know he's being effectively summoned…

"I'm coming, I'm coming…" He mutters under his breath, mostly to himself.

He dresses in his usual clothes and sneakers. Picking up a fistful of grapes and berries from the kitchen on the way out, almost as an after-thought. His father is again on the night-shift, and as Stiles has taken to jogging early in the mornings he probably won't care about him not being in bed, even if it's earlier that Stiles usually takes off. He doesn't even bother with the jeep, it's easier to go straight down the street and into the preserve; he knows his way well enough after spending six months moving around the place, all of them doing their best to stay ahead from both hunters and the government; he could probably make his way to the Nemeton with his eyes closed (not that he's tried it, but still).

He gets there just fine, as the sun slowly begins to lighten. Drops the fruits on top of the stump and then stands back, waiting.

Stiles knows the Nemeton called him there, which means that it probably wants something from him… or to communicate something. He still isn't expecting it when a ghostly figure suddenly manifests above the remains of the tree: in a long-sleeved top and jeans, soft waves of hair falling just past her mid-back, soft features… Stiles has only even seen her in old pictures from BHHS but he has no doubt who he's looking at:

"Miss Krasikeva…" He greets her with a respectful bow.

"Mieczyslaw Stilinski." She replies, bowing her own head.

"Just call me Stiles, everyone does." He shrugs.

"Then call me Paige." She says in return. "I know who you are, Stiles. Just like I'm sure you know who I am."

"I do…" His voice turns quieter.

Of course he knows. Paige Krasikeva, high-school student, prodigious cello-player, and Derek's first love…

"The Nemeton has chosen me to act as… intermediary." She explains. "Just like It is an extension of the Mother…" She notices the fruit right then. "So you know the festivals."

"I know them, am not one to follow them, not really." Stiles sighs. "Will it be required of me now? To follow the Wheel?"

"No. The Mother understands that you are not seeking her favor. She did not send you and Lydia Martin back so you'd be one of her acolytes, but so you might have a second chance at becoming what you were always meant to become, to fulfill your destiny."

He doesn't ask her what his destiny is supposed to be, he knows better than that. Chances are that if she didn't simply stay quite, her answer would be so complex and confusing it'd end up giving him a headache and helping not at all.

"One thing you need to know, is that soon the Nemeton will be no more." Paige adds then.

"What?!" Stiles definitely isn't expecting that.

"All things come with a price. The kind of power that was needed to send your souls back…"

"We destroyed the Nemeton?!"

"Not really. The Nemeton has been mostly dead for many years now. Even my death, my… sacrifice, could only do so much. Channeling so much power… it only accelerated the inevitable. Nonetheless, while the Nemeton will be gone, the power cannot be destroyed, it must go somewhere. I'm sure you understand…"

"That's why I was summoned. The Nemeton wants me to take its place."

"It doesn't quite work like that. The Nemeton, when it was fully alive served as a focus point. Magicals from everywhere would come and pray to it, and to the Mother, to draw on her power. The ultimate goal was to gain favor from the Mother; but even She can only deliver so much power at any given time. The Nemeton gathers power, it allows more to be drawn on."

"Like a magical battery."

"That'd be an apt comparison, yes. Now, with the Nemeton gone… the energy cannot just return to the Mother, it doesn't work like that."

"Cannot it be dispersed, or sent to the land?"

"No to the first, and with the second you would run the risk of activating the Beacon. And doing so at the same time the Nemeton is lost… well, it would make it impossible to turn it off again."

"So there's no other option then…"

He knows it won't be easy, and the consequences will be long-lasting. It's not just about taking the energy offered. It's that his core will over-extend to adapt to it, and then it will stay that way. Even when he uses magic, even if by some kind of miracle (or the negative version of one) he manages to drain his core… his magic will eventually recover to that same level. He will no longer be just a mage; he will be, for all intents and purposes a Sorcerer… Some might think he should be happy, excited by the fact. But Stiles is far too intelligent to just see the good and not think about the negative. That much power, even without the Beacon, it will attract attention, good and bad. He will never be fully at peace again. But can he refuse? If it weren't for the Nemeton he and Lydia wouldn't have been able to time-travel. They always knew there would be a price to pay for the opportunity, beyond their actual sacrifice.

"What about Lydia?" He asks suddenly. "Can I share the power with her?"

"Would you want to do that?" Paige inquires.

"It's only right."

It could be useful, for both of them. Lydia has very little magic, only enough to be considered a Witch, and even then just barely; more magic at her reach would allow her to do more, even if there's no way she'll ever come close to a mage.

"It shall be her choice." Paige announces.

"Yes."

Both turn around, right as Lydia crosses the tree-line into the clearing. Stiles has to wonder if she sensed something, or if the Nemeton summoned her, much as it did him.

"My answer is yes. I want the power." The redhead states.

"This will affect not only your ability as a witch, but also as a Banshee." Paige points out. "Never again will they be able to bind your powers."

"Can I still be bound to my pack?" Lydia asks.

Traditionally banshees would be bound to family lines; but Lydia had found a way to bind herself to the pack in the other timeline, and she preferred it that way.

"Yes." Paige nods.

"Then I'll take it." She declares without hesitation.

"Then come and present yourself to the Nemeton and to the Mother." Paige instructs.

By the time the sun has fully risen Paige is vanishing, like stardust rising into the sky, finally released to be at peace on the Other Side. Lydia and Stiles for their part are left sitting on the dirt ground, panting, as their cores adapt to their new levels of magic. Lydia, who until then had been able to do some basic things easily, and spells with a lot of recitation and calling to specific spirits and/or deities to give their blessing, had gained the power to call on those same spells without so much trouble. Still a witch, but much more powerful than she'd been. Stiles for his part… he was something that had only existed once before in known history.

**xXx**

Stiles is doing a shift at the hospital, a week or so before the start of the school year (and thus the end of his volunteer work… though he's made arrangements with Melissa and Rona to still be allowed to visit Peter and read to him, with the excuse that no one else is there for him and he deserves to have someone), when an emergency patient arrives, someone he recognizes:

"Erica…" Stiles breathes out, not quite aware he's doing it.

"You know her?" Sandy, the ER nurse on shift, asks him.

"Yes, she's a classmate." He answers softly. "She has epilepsy."

"Yeah, apparently she had a grand mal seizure, her mother called an ambulance." Sandy tells him quietly as the doctors work on her.

Stiles doesn't reply. He knows grand mals are bad. It doesn't matter that they've traveled back in time so that Erica hardly knows him in the current date, that she'd been dead for years even before they went back… Erica is pack, she always will be, and Stiles reacts accordingly.

When Erica wakes up Stiles is sitting on a chair beside her bed, reading a book.

"S-Stiles?" She asks, clearly confused by his presence there.

"Hey Erica..." He greets her with a small smile. "How are you?"

"What are you doing here?" She asks instead.

"Well, I figured I'd keep Catwoman company." He answers, easy as anything.

"Catwoman?" She's clearly confused by that.

"Yeah, I figured, if I'm Batman…" He wiggles his eyebrows comically at her. "…and clearly I'm the hero in this story, I'd need a sexy villain/unexpected hero, hence Catwoman. That'd be you, in case you were wondering."

"What about your great Lydia Martin?" She demands.

Of course she's heard about his crush on Lydia, who hasn't? Then again, most people don't realize that that's not love, it never was. It's just… it's easier to seem normal when you do the things that are expected of you: like the geek having a crush on the unattainable perfect girl.

"She's of course a perfect, beautiful princess…" She begins in a theatrical tone, before adding in a more serious one: "but she'll never be mine, and I'm fine with that."

"Really?" Erica clearly doesn't believe him.

"Really." Stiles confirms. "We're friends now."

Erica scoffs, but Stiles doesn't mind. He'll prove it to her. Erica is about to become part of the pack… even if she doesn't know it yet.

**xXx**

Stiles is driving down Main Street after leaving Erica with Lydia (who just rolled her eyes at Stiles's actions and then insisted on staying to discuss fashion options until Erica's mom arrived to check on her), when he catches sight of something from the corner of his eye. He doesn't understand what he's just seen at first, and when he does he's so shocked he cannot help but step on the break, hard. He doesn't even wince at the sound his jeep makes as it stops abruptly. He's not thinking about that at all; instead all his mind can focus on, is what he just saw: Christopher, Victoria and Allison Argent moving in…

When he can finally bring himself to stop trembling he pulls out his phone and dials without even looking at it.

"What now?" Lydia asks, and he can almost picture her rolling her eyes at the thought of what he might have done, until she gets no immediate answer: "Stiles…?"

"L-Lydia…?" His voice sounds so small, he cannot help it.

"Stiles, where are you? I'm coming." She states.

He doesn't even know where he is exactly, but that's alright, the moment they got back to the past they both made sure to program an app into their phones that would allow them to track each other when necessary. It's how Lydia finds him, parked at the side of a small road, off Main Street. It's also at that point that he realizes it's getting dark… more time has passed than he thought. At least that's likely to mean Lydia didn't leave Erica hanging just to get to him.

"What happened?" She asks right away.

"I… I just saw the Argents, moving in." He forces himself to answer.

"What?!" Lydia clearly wasn't expecting that one. "What do you mean you just saw them moving in? Stiles?!"

"Exactly that. I was driving down Main Street and I saw them, outside the car, and there was a moving truck. Got a panic attack just from that."

"But… but… why? I mean, there's no Omega attacking anyone. No suspicious carcasses or deaths. We would know! And besides, this is still a full half a year early! What could have possibly happened to make them…"

She breaks off, and Stiles can tell her mind is working a mile a minute, something has occurred to her; and he probably would be thinking it too, except instead he's busy recovering from the panic attack the mere sight of the Argent family caused him.

"The one big thing we've done since we arrived, was claim the Nemeton's power for ourselves." Lydia reminds him. "The very power Deaton and Morrell wanted, remember?"

"You think one of them called them?"

"Maybe not directly, but I'm quite sure they're responsible somehow. There's simply no other reason for them to be here, now."

"We're going to have to be very careful then. If Deaton is insane enough to call the Argents into Beacon Hills for something like that… we cannot be sure what he might do if he finds out we're the ones who have it."

"You're the one in most danger."

"I'm also the one most capable of dealing with him, if it comes to that."

It's true enough, though Lydia also knows it wouldn't be his first option, not unless his family (his pack) were in danger. She can only hope it won't come to that.

Lydia stays with Stiles until he's feeling well enough to drive, then follows him all the way to his place to make sure he gets there alright, before making her way to her own place. Ignoring her mother completely when she starts on her same rant about not recognizing Lydia anymore…

Stiles cannot even think about having dinner, still too shaken about everything, so he makes up something to his dad about having eaten out with his friends and being tired. Noah looks oddly at him, knowing Stiles is lying, or at least not telling the whole truth. But the man can also see his son isn't at his best, and thus decides to let him sleep and have a talk about it later, perhaps over breakfast the next morning.

**xXx**

No one is expecting the nightmares. Even Stiles, knowing himself as well as he does, with all the traumas he knows he carries, isn't expecting for his mind to react like that. The way it mixes his memories of being beaten up by Gerard, watching Erica and Boyd chained up and constantly shocked, Allison stabbing Issac repeatedly, the Oni stabbing her, under his (the Nogitsune's) orders, Chris pointing his gun at him even as the fox dared him to shoot him.

Stiles wakes up screaming his head off.

The sheriff rushes into the room, gun in hand, seeking to save his son from a terrible danger, to find nothing but his boy sitting up on his bed, damp with cold sweat, unseeing eyes fixed straight ahead and screaming blue murder.

"Stiles!" Noah cries out in worry.

He drops the gun on his son's desk after making sure the safety's on, the rushes to his son. Stiles reacts instinctively, half of him reaching for one of his knives, under his pillow, except the other half of him has processed the fact that it's his father speaking, reaching for him, and that makes him stop. Still, the mid-motion is enough to call Noah's attention to his arm; or more precisely, to the long scar down his forearm.

"Stiles!" Noah cries out in horror. "What have you done to yourself? Why?!"

Stiles is so out of it he cannot even think about making something up.

"What I needed to do…" He says quietly. "To save you, to save everyone."

"Stiles…" The father has a hard time finding the right words to express himself. "I know you've been hiding things from me. Like the fact that you've been spending a lot of time with Lydia Martin. I was sure if the day ever came you began dating that girl I'd be the first to know! Or the second, after Scott. Never thought you would be able to keep it to yourself."

"Lyds and I aren't dating." Stiles shakes his head. "We're just friends."

Noah believes him, but he still knows the boy is keeping something from him.

"The last time, when I told you, you didn't believe me." Stiles mutters, more to himself than to his dad. "I told you mom would have believed me. And she would have! She was magic too…"

Noah sees something very clearly in that moment: he's failed his son. He's no idea when or even how, but he's somehow failed Stiles. He has to do something about it.

"Tell me again Stiles." He murmurs softly, embracing his son tightly. "Tell me, I promise I'll believe you this time. I promise son."

And so Stiles tells him. Tells him everything. He's still sleepy enough, half lost in the memory of the nightmare, the panic attack, his ever-present fear that no matter how hard he tries, how hard Lydia and he might try, they will somehow fail in the end. He cannot live with that, with the possibility of trying so hard and ultimately having to watch everything go to hell again, having to watch everyone die… he's already promised himself that if it comes to that, he'll die first. He has enough power that, if necessary, he'll put every single drop of it into making sure that his loved ones will survive the end of the very world, regardless of the consequences to himself.

"No Stiles, no..." Noah is in denial after hearing that.

Stiles blinks, finally fully awake, he realizes that not only has he just told his dad the whole tragic story of his life, but he also revealed his 'worst case' plan.

"I'll do what needs to be done." Stiles declares stubbornly.

"But can't you see son?" Noah insists. "If you do that, how are we supposed to live without you? Those of us who love you, how are we suppose to live without you?"

"I cannot do it again, watch you all die." Stiles sobs. "Please don't ask me to."

"Oh Stiles…" Noah really has no words for that, all he can do is hold his son tight and hope that, somehow, that might be able to convey all his love, his support.

Truth is, Noah Stilinski has no idea how any of the things his son just told him are even remotely possible: werewolves, witches, hunters, the end of the world?! But after hearing what Stiles said at the beginning, about Noah not having believed him, about how Claudia would have… besides, Stiles was far too sleepy to make everything up. It was too complex and specific a story for it all to be made up on the spot and… he cannot deny that his son has changed, and it's not just his apparent friendship with Lydia Martin (his once crush) or his time volunteering at the hospital. It's in the way his son no longer seems to be almost vibrating out of his skin all the time, and he's not even taking his Aderall anymore, Noah checked; and the way he moves sometimes, even the way he stands… the only people Noah's ever seen moving like that are army veterans; and if everything his son has told him is true (and there's no reason to believe it isn't, insane as the whole thing might still seem to him), he's effectively a veteran of a supernatural war.

"What were you dreaming about?" He asks eventually.

"Everything." Stiles answers softly.

He cannot believe that his dad is being so accommodating. No insults, no accusations, no denials, nothing like how he reacted the first time (before he was forced to face everything head on). He's so accepting, and still there, holding Stiles close, as if he could somehow protect the boy from everything through sheer will (and who knows? Far as Stiles knows, he inherited his gift from his mom… though that assumption comes mostly from the fact that he never saw his dad do anything remotely magical, and he's come to believe that his mom's 'green thumb' had to have been magical at least to a point, all her plats had always been just so perfect…). But even if Noah cannot really protect him, Stiles still feels safe with him, safer that he's felt in a long time. He can only thank the Mother for his dad.

"Saw the Argents moving in when I was on my way home." Stiles explains quietly. "Had a panic attack. Lyds made sure I made it back alright but still… my head couldn't let it go. I dreamt about so much… the pack, the hunters, Gerard beating me up, the things Allison did when her mother died and she went a little nuts… the nogitsune… when Allison died..." Stiles hiccups. "You know, I don't think Scott ever forgave me for that one. Or Mr. Argent… Even if Scott was already dating Kira by then, and then Malia and, and that other girl, I cannot remember her name. I don't think he ever loved any of them like he loved Allison. And she loved him too… with all her heart, she told him so, before dying in his arms. And that was my fault, it was my fault she…"

"No it wasn't." Noah cuts him off vehemently. "It wasn't your fault son. It was a terrible, an awful tragedy, yes. But it wasn't your fault. Even if it was your body that thing was using. It wasn't your mind, it wasn't your heart behind it… it wasn't your doing. You would have never done that, would have never hurt someone you loved."

Stiles can still see a sword in his hand, twisting it inside Scott's gut. It almost makes him sick just to think about it and yet… he cannot help but think about what his dad is saying. About his mind and his heart. He knows his dad means that it wasn't his doing, even if the nogitsune was in him, he wasn't the one controlling things… and yet he thinks of something else: of how through it all, the nogitsune attacked a great many people, was responsible, directly or indirectly of a great many deaths, including several of his dad's deputies, and people at the hospital. But he only ever killed two people Stiles knew: Allison and Aiden; and even them, it wasn't directly. Aside from that, through all the times he'd gone against the pack, he rarely truly hurt them. The worst had been Scott himself, and Derek a bit, though certainly much less than Scott. A part of Stiles cannot help but wonder how significant that might be, the fact that the nogitsune only ever killed or tried to kill people Stiles wasn't very close too. The closest being Scott but… if Stiles is honest with himself, so much had happened between the two of them by that point, he stopped seeing Scott as his brother at some point. It's something he's been trying to regain since getting to the past, and likes to believe he's managed it and yet… and yet a part of him cannot help but feel it won't last. That sooner or later Scott will abandon him again. And of course there's Derek, the one time the nogitsune tried to use him against someone he truly cared about… it didn't manage to do much, even if Stiles wasn't in a position to do much to fight back, still… And the people he did kill, Allison and Aiden. Hard as it might be to admit, he never fully trusted Allison after she went all crazy-hunter on the pack, refusing to see that Victoria's death was her own fault; and Aiden… he had never once trusted Aiden, not with him having been part of the Alpha pack and at least partially responsible for Erica's and Boyd's deaths (he never understood how the others could).

"Thank you dad…" Stiles murmurs softly.

Noah just looks at him quietly, not sure what exactly Stiles is thanking him for.

"For being here, for believing me, just… for being my dad." Stiles enlists with a drowsy smile.

"You never have to thank me for any of that kid." Noah assures him. "Whatever mistakes I might have made in the past… your past… the other time. I promise to do better this time around. I'll always be here for you, always, no matter what."

"I know." And Stiles really does.

No matter how complicated it might have been at first, Noah had been there for his son when it truly mattered. To the end.

"Love you dad." He adds, because if there's one thing he regretted after his dad's death it was that they didn't say those words more often.

"Love you too son." Noah replies, kissing his brow. "Now go back to sleep. I promise I'll be here with you. You'll be alright."

Stiles doesn't respond to that, he has no idea what he could say, so instead he just lays back down, curled against his dad, seeking his warmth, the security it gives him. He might be a grown man for all intents and purposes, a survivor from the honest-to-God end of the world… but in some ways he's also still a teenager, one who needs his father more than ever… and he's lucky enough to have him.

Stiles knows that they'll have to talk more later on. Explain things clearly, so his dad might be better able to look after himself, and after everyone else in Beacon Hills. If things keep changing at the rate they have, sooner or later Lydia's and his knowledge will mean next to nothing, they all have to be ready, to adapt.

But that can wait until morning.

**xXx**

Stiles is on his last day at the hospital when there is yet another rush of activity as an ambulance arrives. This time though the patient is one he never expected to see in the ER: Scott.

"What happened?!" He cries out as Melissa stops him from going in.

She was already told that she couldn't go in herself, as other nurses and doctors handled it.

"He was at the school, training, says he wants to join the lacrosse team next season." Melissa says in a watery voice, tears clogging her throat.

"But… but that's not until next semester!" Stiles cries out.

"According to him, he thought he could get a head-start." Melissa says with a shake of his head. "We were so lucky that a couple of the teachers hadn't yet left after their earlier meeting. One of them saw him and called an ambulance. Otherwise he'd have stayed there, alone, and by the time anyone found him…"

She breaks off as the sobbing starts, and all Stiles can do is stand there. Worrying over his almost-brother and wondering if it's his fault. He should have been there, with Scott, if not to keep him from doing something idiotic, then at least to help him, who knows? Perhaps he'd have been able to get him to use his inhaler fast enough that it wouldn't have gotten so bad…

He's not even aware as he dials Lydia's number.

"Yes, it's ready." Stiles doesn't ask how Lydia can give an answer before the question ever crosses his lips. "I'm on my way. You keep Mrs. McCall distracted and I'll give him the cure."

"Lyds…" He murmurs, not knowing what to say.

"Trust me Stiles, this will work." She assures him. "Now get moving. I'm almost there."

As soon as Rona can assure them that Scott is alright, the worst has passed and all he needs to do is sleep it off, Stiles convinces Melissa to accompany him to the cafeteria, she needs something with sugar to recover after the serious scare Scott's sudden arrival gave her. Rona agrees right away and promises to call them if anything changes with Scott.

Somehow Stiles manages to keep Melissa in the cafeteria until Lyds sends him a text with a single word: 'Done'. Then they're on their way back.

In the morning the doctors will do a check-up and find that Scott is much better than they were expecting. They will run some more tests and find it curious that his lungs look less bad than they did the last time they ran them. It'll be months before anyone dares to suggest that the boy's asthma might cured, some kind of miracle, they'll say (not like they'd ever be able to find Lydia's cure… or even know to look for anything). It'll take time, but that's okay, Stiles knows already that Scott will be just fine, and that's enough.

* * *

So... what do you think thus far? How insane are things, and Stiles ideas for making things better... There's a lot more coming, more than you probably imagine, though I'd love it if my readers would leave their ideas and predictions in the reviews/comments so I may get an idea what you would like (and to see how much I may be able to surprise you, or not).

This chapter was important for me, not just for setting things up but also because of Noah. I wanted to do something with Noah, to show how much he loves his son. That even if his first reaction the first time around wasn't the best, it was never because he didn't care about Stiles. Too much had happened by then. So now... this was the chance to show the kind of man he really is. The man who loves his son, who wishes to protect him, but when he accepts he cannot, not completely, he will instead stand by his side. Support him, be his rock. That's very important to me. Also, Noah will be an important character in the pieces to come, so this is the new start of the story for him. This is a new start for everyone.


	3. A Circle Unbroken

You all obviously realize that things are changing slowly but surely. Here we get what can probably be considered as the first big chance (or more like, series of changes, but the point remains).

Also, I've been telling you that you should listen to "Listen to the Wind" by Hayley Westenra, as its basically the theme for the series. And I love the song, I truly do, but the more I listened to it... something was missing. I needed a male to sing it, and I couldn't find any male cover! So in the end I made my own... sort-of. I used a free website and after going through more than half the conversions on offer I chose one that I decided sounded male, but not too deep, mostly because while the slightly deeper one sounded awesome, it didn't sound, to me, like either Stiles or Derek. And that's what I wanted. I posted it on youtube, using a wallpaper version of the cover as background (yes, I ended making a wallpaper too). I hope you'll go watch it and like it! You can find it here: DOq4eZY917g (I only give you the 'key' as Ffnet would delete it if I tried to put in the whole url).

* * *

**A Circle Unbroken**

The first day of their sophomore year Stiles is eager and terrified. Both, at the same time. He hasn't felt so anxious about a first day of school since starting 4th grade… for the second time. Truth is, Lydia isn't the only one to ever skip a year, Stiles did too, early on in Elementary; and then he had to repeat a year with how often he'd leave classes or simply never attend, while his mom was in the hospital, and in the months following the funeral. Back then the panic attacks had been so bad at the thought of losing his dad like he lost his mom… he couldn't go more than a couple of hours without knowing where he was, seeing him, hearing his voice, anything. It got better, eventually; but still, there's a reason why he has the police scanner.

Things have been a lot better since he told his dad the truth, and the fact that the man believed him… Stiles isn't sure if it's the fact that he hasn't lied as much to him yet this time around, or if finding his son in the aftermath of a nightmare/panic attack combo somehow forced Noah to re-evaluate what he was willing to believe and what he wasn't.

Another benefit is that, with his dad knowing, Lydia and Stiles can meet at his house. They also have ordered more than enough herbs to be ready for what they know is coming, and some things they don't know, just in case. One of the first things they did was get wolfsbane, several different versions, and in seeds. Stiles spent the last week of summer planting his own version of a herb garden, with the various wolfsbane varieties, as well as other plants like mistletoe, foxglove, vervain, and a few others. A little bit of magic was enough to make sure the plants will grow well and faster than what's natural. The sooner they can all be armed, the better (considering all the things that keep changing…).

Classes begin and, as always, Stiles is sitting beside Scott. The last weekend of the summer break was hard on him as he kept claiming he felt just fine, but Melissa was just too scared after his most recent stay in the hospital and wouldn't let him do much. Stiles knows Scott is upset by it all and, when Allison enters the classroom, decides that might be the best way to cheer him up.

"Quick, offer her a pen." He whispers to his friend.

"What?" Scott is clearly confused.

"She's a new student, new students are always forgetting things like pens, and pencils and the like." Stiles excuses.

From the other side of the room he can almost hear Lydia scoff, but doesn't pay attention to it. He just waits while Scott keeps trying to process what he just heard, until they both hear the new girl cursing under her breath about forgetting then pen. And then there's Scott offering her one, before anyone else can think of it.

Stiles just smiles. At lunch the popular girls invite Allison to eat with them, and she in turn invites Scott to go with her. Scott doesn't even look at Stiles, or so much as mention him as he follows. Not like he wasn't expecting it, but being pushed aside so easily still hurts.

Erica sits beside him a few minutes later, tray in hand, and immediately picks up on what's going on; she clearly doesn't like it:

"Isn't he supposed to be your best friend?" She asked, with as little tact as usual.

Stiles just shrugs. There really is no good answer to that.

The true blow-up doesn't come until Friday though when, halfway through lunch, Lydia jumps to her feet and begins ranting at half the table in such a mix of languages Stiles is sure most people only understand one word in three (he's fortunate to understand two of every three…). Then, to top it all off, she picks up her tray and in a very dignified manner marches across the room before dropping it across from Stiles and sitting there.

"What the hell?!" Erica cries out, clearly not having expected that.

"I'm tired of pretending to be someone I'm not." Lydia states very formally.

"What? Like you aren't a snob and a socialité and…" Erica begins enlisting.

"Oh no, I am that, and proud of it." Lydia replies easily. "But I'm not dumb, and I'm tired of pretending I am. All my classes are AP, I'm taking online studies for college credits and can probably speak more languages than the language professors in this school, yet people would rather see me as the dumb, pretty girlfriend of a jock than who I really am! I'm tired of it."

Stiles cannot help himself, he bursts into laughter. Especially as the warning bell for their next class rings right then, as if serving to mark an end to her speech/tirade.

All three of them get on their feet to leave and Stiles just cannot hold back:

"That was precious Lyds, just precious." He announces as he tries to control his laughter.

"Lyds?" Erica repeats. "Just how well do you two know each other?"

It was one thing for her to realize they knew each other that day in the hospital, but aside from that day and a trip to the mall where Lydia recommended her the best clothes for her, Erica didn't spend much time with the redhead, had no idea how close the two really were.

"Well enough." Lydia replies evenly.

"She's not the only one taking only AP classes." Stiles points out calmly. "Most people don't realize it because of my ADHD… but I'm a bit of a genius myself."

"You're more than just a 'bit' of a genius Stiles, and now that you're on the new medication I'm sure people will begin to see that." Lydia states.

It's the excuse they're giving, for the fact that he no longer flails like he used to (though his mind still goes too fast and in every direction possible at the same time). Not like they can explain that finally channeling his magic properly means he no longer needs to take Aderall.

Stiles wishes they could find a cure for Erica too. But epilepsy is very different from 'trapped magic' (considering that Stiles never really had ADHD) or asthma; and Lydia doesn't dare try something when she might end up killing Erica, rather than helping her. Also, while neither of them might have said it with all their words, they still hope that things will remain enough the same that Erica might have a chance at getting the Bite. Until then the two will be there for her and make sure to do their best to help her.

"Why pretend?" Erica finally asks Lydia.

"Because for my whole life my mom lead me to believe that a woman needed to marry well in order to be happy." Lydia explains, even as they make their way to class. "And I'm intelligent enough to know that most of the guys she'd consider 'good matches' would never want a genius for a girlfriend, much less a wife. Someone who proved to be better than them… so I pretended to be less than I am. I still kept my grades, of course, but didn't make it obvious, and never spoke about my online courses."

"What changed?" Erica wants to know.

"I realized how much the things my mother wanted me to believe are nothing more than a lie. She's not happy, her marriage ended in divorce, and her supposedly perfect match turned out to be a bastard who's been cheating on her practically since the day they married. So I decided I'd rather find my own happiness than try to build myself a fairy-tale I don't even believe in."

"So you don't believe in love then?"

"Oh no, I do. Very much. I just don't believe I need it to be happy. That I need a man to be happy. Not saying it wouldn't be great to find love. But unless it's someone who can take me as I am, the real me and not the person I've had to pretend to be all this time, then I'm not interested."

Stiles is quite sure he's not the only one thinking about that night, about a key held up by a girl trembling in fear and yet still standing tall; and the boy who fell, only to rise again. All things done out of love…

"What about you Stiles?" Erica turns to him then. "Do you believe in love?"

He cannot help but think about it then: the ghost of a kiss, tainted by blood, tears and the slightest trace of poison, as lives and the world itself came to an end…

"I don't know." He admits quietly. "I'd like to believe anything's possible."

He doesn't know. Doesn't know if that connection, or at least the potential for it, still exists. Doesn't even know if he'll ever meet Derek, considering how things keep changing. Perhaps he'll arrive to Beacon Hills earlier; or maybe he never will… the sorcerer honestly has no idea which option terrifies him more.

**xXx**

It takes until Sunday morning for Noah to realize things are off with his son, again. Though, to be fair, he had several night shifts and didn't get the chance to see his son much more than for breakfast most days, so there's that.

"Where's Scott?" Noah eventually asks.

"Lost in Allison-world." Stiles deadpans, focusing all his attention on his pancakes.

"Son…?" Noah is honestly worried.

"It's okay dad, I… it hurts, but it's not the first time." Stiles shrugs, somewhat self-deprecating. "I was kind of expecting it actually. Scott and Allison have this whole Romeo-and-Juliet true-love kind of thing… it's amazing. I'm happy they've found each other in this timeline too. And Scott's not a werewolf, and Lydia and I will do our best to make sure he never turns, so that's sure to help them too!"

"And what about you?" Noah insists.

"Like I said, it hurts. Scott was the closest thing I had to a brother for a long time but… well, this has happened before. Him forgetting about me now doesn't hurt as much as it did back then. I think… I think a part of me knew already this would happen. So I enjoyed the summer we had together, and now I can let him go and move on. Also, it's not like I'm alone or anything. I have Lyds, and Catwoman, and who knows? Maybe we'll find a way to add Boyd, maybe even Issac one day… and of course I've got you."

"Very well. And hey, what about that other girl you told me about? Malia?"

"Malia…" Stiles sighs. "She must still be a coyote at this time. Honestly, much as I might want to help her I wouldn't have the first idea how to do it."

"Couldn't you do it with your magic?"

"I… I don't know."

He really doesn't. The first time around it was Scott's True-Alpha howl that forced Malia back into human form. And even then… Malia had expressed her desire to have stayed a coyote more than once, and for a while there Stiles wondered if maybe it'd been a mistake, forcing her to live as a human when it wasn't her choice. But perhaps he could find her and ask her? No idea if she'll even be able to understand him, being a coyote and all, but he supposes he can try…

**xXx**

It takes Stiles two months to track down Malia. And he's quite sure that the last two weeks she was purposefully avoiding him. He doesn't understand at first why she finally came out from her hiding spots and faced him, but chooses not to focus on that, and instead concentrates on what he needs to say to her.

"Hey Malia…" He greets her, crouching, but staying back enough that she won't feel intimidated by him. "My name is Stiles. I know you're not really a coyote, or at least, not just a coyote. I know you've been through a lot, awful things, you've lost your family, and I'm very sorry about that. But if you decide to take a chance, to be human again, I promise to do my very best to be there for you, always. I'd love it if you'd join my family. It's just me and my dad, but I promise we'd take really good care of you, and we have some very good friends, and they could be your friends too." He shakes his head to himself. "It's your choice in the end. I know you became coyote because you couldn't handle being human; the thoughts, the feelings… and it probably won't be easy, if you choose to shift. I'm sure of that, in fact. But I promise you won't be alone. You'll never be alone again."

Several seconds pass, and then there's a shift. Stiles lets out an omph as he falls back on his butt, a brunette girl suddenly on his lap, holding tightly onto him, face buried in his neck. A very naked girl… though that particular thought is derailed with the first word to come out of her mouth:

"Pack…"

It's only later on. After they're back at the Stilinski home and he's managed to convince her to take a bath (he helps at her insistence, though he makes sure to be entirely professional… he's actually learned a few things, helping the nurses during the summer). They get her dressed in a set of clothes Erica left her, but Malia insists on holding onto Stiles's plaid shirt.

"Pack…" Is all the explanation she gives.

"You went to see Peter today, didn't you?" Lydia offers when they're all in the kitchen and he still doesn't understand it.

"Yeah…" And then Stiles gets it.

He was with Peter, and he's Malia's dad… even if she doesn't know it, not really, she knows the scent is important, it's family or, from her point of view, pack.

At least they have a plan in place. They wait a couple of days, until she's more used to talking again, and doing things by herself; and then Stiles and Noah take her to the station, where they tell one of the deputies, Tara, a story about Stiles finding Malia in the woods when he was out for his daily jog. Malia plays the part of the girl who escaped her kidnappers recently. Trauma is a good excuse for her not to remember a lot of stuff other than having spent years moving from place to place, never in any cities, always away from people; and then she took a chance and ended running through the woods, where Stiles found her. The best part? Strictly speaking, it's all true, of course the interpretation the deputies (and eventually the town) give to her story is very different from reality, but that's alright.

The only hiccup comes when Child Services tries to take her away (something to be expected since she has no family left, legally). Malia throws a tantrum then, refusing to leave Stiles's side (though she's at least careful enough not to hurt anyone or reveal her inhuman strength). The sheriff offers to look after her until a more permanent arrangement can be made. He's sure Tara already suspects he'll end up adopting the girl, and there's nothing wrong with that; the Stilinskis are model citizens, and not just because Noah is the Sheriff, and everyone in town likes them. So they already know there will be no trouble when the talk of fostering and adoption eventually comes up. Malia's just happy she gets to stay with the pack.

The next time Stiles goes visit Peter (he can only go once, sometimes twice a week, since starting school), Malia rushes straight to him. She can sense their connection, even if the human side cannot fully understand it. The family she remembers are the Tates, even learning that she was adopted and that Peter Hale is her biological dad, those words don't have much meaning for her. The scent… that's what cinches it.

The moment she touches Peter's hand… something happens none of them were expecting. Stiles is the first to feel it (though later on Lydia and his dad confirm they felt it too, to lesser degrees): the pack bond snapping into place. Stiles has no idea how that's even possible, how they can possibly be a pack when none of them is an alpha, Peter is the only wolf, and he's not even awake! And yet… he's happy, he has a pack again; that makes him very happy indeed.

**xXx**

The most shocking moment for them all is perhaps one morning in early November, during lunch-hour when, for no apparent reason at all, Jackson takes his lunch tray, goes for their table and sits beside Lydia, across from Erica, Stiles and Malia (who isn't taking classes with them just yet, but instead is being taught personally by teachers who volunteered to help her catch up so she might join the class on the next term).

"What the…?" Erica and Stiles are equally shocked by the jock's arrival.

Lydia says not a word, but through the pack bonds Stiles can sense her anxiety. She likes Jackson being there, but isn't sure he's there for the right reasons.

Jackson doesn't say a word though, just eats his lunch in silence.

The scene repeats the next day, and the next, throughout the whole week. The following Monday he makes a comment about some project Harris gave them, then about Finstock's craziness. It's so gradual no one seems to quite notice when they begin replying to his comments, when it goes from isolated comments to actual conversations, even jokes.

It's less of a surprise when Danny joins then near the end of the month. He doesn't sit with them all the time, sometimes choosing to sit with the other members of the lacrosse team, or his current boyfriend. Jackson however, consistently sits with them, beside Lydia.

"Why are you doing this?" Lydia finally asks one day.

At first Jackson doesn't answer, and Stiles wonders if he's about to say or do something stupid. If he hurts Lydia Stiles is going to…

"What you said months ago, about being tired of having to pretend to be someone you're not." Jackson finally speaks. "I didn't want to admit it at first, but that was me too. My whole life has been what my parents have wanted it to be, my dad especially. He wanted me to play sports, because it's what was expected of me; just like he expects me to be a lawyer and work for him. Like I don't have enough having to follow his every order at home, he expects me to end up doing the same when I'm finally grown up. But I did it, because I thought I had to, because I was… I didn't want to give him a reason not to want me anymore."

Erica scoffs, she probably means to do so quietly, but everyone at the table hears her.

"This isn't exactly any of your business, but since you're here." Jackson snarks. "I'm adopted. I found out when I was ten. My parents never intended to tell me, but I accidentally found my original birth certificate, it was all there. Ever since then I've had this feeling, like I have to prove myself, otherwise…"

"They'll send you away." Stiles murmurs quietly. "Like if you don't try hard enough they may one day decide you aren't worth it, they won't want you anymore."

"Y...yes, exactly." It's clear Jackson's surprised by how well Stiles understands it.

"My mom died of fronto-temporal dementia." Stiles summarizes. "It's really complicated, but the main point here is that she got really bad before dying. She effectively went insane, kept claiming all sorts of things, had hallucinations, delusions, believed the world was out to get her. One of the last times I saw her conscious… she claimed I was a monster, that I was the one killing her, that it was my fault she was dying…"

Stiles's voice begins to break and he clamps his mouth shut. Erica and Malia, on either side of him are holding him tight, discreetly enough so as not to call anyone else's attention.

He didn't need to tell them that, but if Jackson was going to be pack… it felt right. Also, he cannot help but remember that day, a couple of weeks after he went back to school, when that one boy said something hurtful regarding how his mom died so she could get away from him because she couldn't stand him… Jackson hit the boy so hard he broke his nose. Neither of them ever talked about it, but Stiles never forgot it either. Just like he never forgot that Jackson became a douche when he was around ten…

"I know that we began dating because it's what our parents wanted, because we each are what the others consider the 'right sort of person'." Jackson is almost making air quotes as he says that. "But I do like you Lydia. Not just for the girl you pretended to be." He smirks at her a little. "I always knew there was more to you, you know? The way you always finish all tests first, even if you wait to hand it over until others have done so. Your papers are always far better written than anyone else's. And when you're mad… you tend to curse in at least four different languages, one which I'm sure is Latin and another I've never heard in my life, and trust me, I did my best to look it up!" He shakes his head. "So, Lydia Martin, will you give me a chance?"

"What kind of chance?" She asks.

It's quite clear she's beyond shocked by Jackson's words, by how well he knows her. And yet she's still Lydia Martin and refuses to give in so easily, no matter how much a part of her might really want to.

"Be my date for the Winter Formal." He half-asks.

"Yes." Lydia answers before she's quite conscious of what she's doing, but that's alright, she's choosing to go with her instincts.

On the other side of the table Stiles smiles. Jackson might not be his favorite person, but he's willing to deal with him for Lyds. If he's her true match… she deserves that love. Stiles knows that Lydia never expected to find it; not after the way things went for her the first time around. With Jackson, Aiden, and even Stiles himself… they gave it an honest try, and he doesn't regret that, he never will. He also knows they just weren't right for each other, they work better as friends, as family, than they ever did as a couple.

Jackson (and Erica) have just left the lunchroom (the two of them have a class, while the rest of them have free period), when Lydia looks straight at Stiles.

"I don't have anything to wear!" She cries out.

Stiles cannot help himself, he laughs.

"Shut up Stilinski!" She half snaps at him. "I wasn't planning on going to the freaking dance!"

It's pointless really, because no matter how much she might glare at him, he just cannot stop laughing, He knows he'll pay for it, she'll probably force him to take her to the mall and make him carry all her bags (and he's certain she'll end up buying a lot more than a dress), but that's okay, he'll endure it. It's worth it after having actually seen Lydia Martin flustered about a high-school dance of all things!

**xXx**

The dance is good, nice. Lydia arrives in a beautiful ivory colored dress, on Jackson's arm. Scott is there too, with Allison, but while he does look a tad shocked, especially when seeing Stiles enter with a girl on each arm (though he, Erica and Malia are there strictly as friends and they all know it), he doesn't dare say anything about it.

Stiles even has a chance to dance with Lydia for a single song. And while he can hear some of the jocks trying to provoke Jackson with comments about the 'geek trying to take his girl', Jackson just snorts at them:

"If Lydia wanted Stilinski, she'd be dating him, she wants me, so she's dating me, period." He says in his most deadpan voice.

Stiles actually chuckles at that. It really is that simple. He wasn't expecting the other boy to get it, but it seems that Jackson has matured more than Stiles ever expected him to. The funny part is that Stiles never intended for any of that, it was all Jackson's own doing. Harsh as it might seem, the jock simply wasn't a priority of Stiles's, or even Lydia's. Aside from that time he and Ethan dropped by to help them deal with the Anuk-Ite, Monroe and her people, and later on when they heard about the awful fire that had claimed so many lives in London… they hadn't been in much contact with him. Though, thinking back on it, Stiles also remembers once thinking how illogical it all was, that Lydia's love saved Jackson, and then he left. Of course it wasn't up to him, he'd to do what his parents wanted but… he's come to wonder if maybe they could have done something to change that. If maybe those two were meant to be and if they'd just tried a little harder to help them… how much would things have changed?

One only needed to look at Malia. The first time around she was forced to become human, and she fought it, tooth and nail (and claw), even after being sent to Eichen House. Even after she conceded, a part of her remained more… wild. This time around there's still that wildness in her, but it's contained, controlled; Malia's capable of being feral, but she willingly acts like a human, and she's happy enough. She's happy to be Noah Stilinski's foster daughter, as good as Stiles's sister, to have found a pack in Lydia, Erica and even Jackson (even if the latter two still don't know a lot), as they all wait for Peter to wake up.

There's actually been change on that front, as Jennifer told them. She's the nurse in the Long Care ward and seems to have a soft spot for Peter, precisely because he seemed to have no one before Stiles, and later on the rest of the group, took it upon themselves to be there for him. Jennifer told them (in confidence) that his latest EKG had showed improved brain activity, and she was quite sure his scars looked less red and angry than they had in the past. Lydia has theorized that the creation of the pack bonds, with Malia's visit may have given his healing the boost it needed to go beyond just keeping him alive.

Perhaps the only downside of the whole night comes when the night is coming to an end and Scott finally gets the guts to approach Stiles as he and his group are leaving.

"Why are you hanging out with them?" He demands, rather than asks.

"What…?" Stiles is honestly taken by surprise.

"Why did you come to the dance with all of them? Especially Jackson of all people!" Scott demands in what he probably feels is righteous anger and hurt. "You didn't even tell me you had a date for the dance. Less of all two!"

"Malia and Erica are not my dates, they're my friends, we all came together as friends." Stiles clarified. "Jackson and Lydia came as a date, as is their right. Lydia is my friend, and she's dating Jackson, I'm not about to snub her simply because Jackson and I have had difficulties in the past. As for why I didn't tell you..." His eyes narrow. "When did you ask me?"

"What?" That one takes Scott by surprise.

"Tell me Scott, when did you ask me if I was even coming to the dance?" He doesn't even wait for an answer, there's no point. "Or I'll make it easier for you: when was the last time you said more than two words to me, on any topic that wasn't homework? I'll tell you when, the first day of classes, when I suggested to you that you offer Allison a pen. That was the last time we spoke. Then you followed her to lunch, didn't even turn to look at me."

No one says anything to that, not really, though Scott's spluttering in disbelief and Allison is staring in a mix of shock and concern.

"It's okay Allison, I don't blame you." He assures her. "Scott likes you, you like him, and that's great. I don't blame either of you for focusing on the other, that's just fine. However," his eyes are practically boring a hole into Scott. "that does not give you the right to make demands of me. It was your choice to ignore me the last few months, not mine. You never answered my texts, never took my calls. And eventually I stopped trying because much as I might consider you a friend and the closest thing I have to a brother, I still have some pride Scott and I will not beg for your attention. I have no need, or desire, to do that."

"You don't… I don't…" Scott really doesn't seem to know what to say.

"It's his loss." Jackson states, derisively.

Sitting with them had had on impact on his standing. At first some of the other jocks saw it as him making a play, then when they tried making veiled comments, only to have Jackson stop them in their tracks… they tried to put him down, only for Jackson to reinforce his place, show them that regardless of whose table he might sit at for lunch, he was still Jackson Whittemore, and no one was going to insult him or those he considers his friends (which somehow had come to include Stiles and Erica, two people most of the school considered close to pariahs until then… same as Scott, until his lack of asthma and dating a pretty girl allowed him to join the popular crowd himself).

"Don't forget the party at my house." Lydia reminds them, as Jackson goes to close the door to his Porsche.

"Sure, we'll be there." Erica calls in return, even as she and Malia climb into Stiles's jeep.

They all know Lydia called that out just loudly enough intentionally. Everyone in the school knows Lydia Martin's parties are the best, she used to invite all the popular people, until the day she decided to stop hiding herself. Most of the school might have thought she was the one losing, surrendering her status as 'queen of the school'; but truth is she doesn't miss it. She's still a genius, still beautiful, has a great fashion sense, and now she's sure that the people she surrounds herself with are there because they want to be, because they accept her, rather than just because they're hoping to gain something from being in her company.

Scott doesn't say anything else. Stiles isn't sure if that's a good thing or not, if he might have managed to reach him this time, make Scott truly think about what he's been doing, the way he's been treating Stiles… or if it will all be pointless again. Only time will tell. If he's honest with himself, Stiles just cannot bring himself to care anymore. Scott isn't pack, and Stiles would rather focus on those who are: pack… family.

**xXx**

Peter wakes up the day after Christmas. It's only for a few minutes the first time, and he only manages to take a look around, meet Stiles's eyes and say a single word:

"Pack?" Even that one word carries a load of meaning and emotion.

"We're here." Stiles nods seriously.

Peter nods, very slightly, before closing his eyes again and relaxing. Malia, who ran to him, pretty much climbing onto his bed and curling against him, keeps holding him until Jennifer drops by and informs them that Peter's just asleep. No longer in a coma. It'll take him a while to be able to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time, but he's in his road to recovery now, something that seemed next to impossible just half a year earlier.

The sad part is that no one at the hospital has a number they can call, to inform Peter's family of his recovery. They've never been given a number; and while they've let the teenagers hang around thus far, it's not technically legal.

It's Noah who comes up with the plan. Malia makes a huge deal in the middle of the hospital about remembering Peter's scent, believing that he's family. The nurses, feeling for the man who's miraculously awoken yet has no one there for him, are willing to ignore a few norms and make a simple paternity test, which immediately shows that Peter is, in fact, Malia's father. Since Peter cannot be responsible for himself for the time being, and Malia is Noah's foster child, the sheriff takes the opportunity to take responsibility for Peter as well.

"You have an interesting pack, sheriff." Peter tells him softly days later, when he's finally awake enough to hold a conversation, and has the chance to speak with the other man in private.

"That I do." Noah agrees. "Call me Noah, please. Though, you should know I'm not…"

"A wolf?" Peter finishes for him with an easy nod. "I know. Nor is your son, nor any of the teenagers he hangs out with, not even my child…"

That part still leaves him breathless, especially the fact that he cannot actually remember her, and he knows only one person can be to blame for that, and it hurts to think about her like that. A part of him is still grieving Talia, along with his fiance, and the rest of their family, and to then think that he lost family even before that, and his own sister was responsible…

"Malia is a wonderful girl, and she cares for you very much." Noah tells him.

"She doesn't know me." Peter practically scoffs.

"She knows you're her father, and that's enough for her, for now." The sheriff replies. "You'll get the chance to know each other. When the hospital says you're well enough, you're coming with us, to our place. Stiles and the others are fixing our guest-room for you."

"What about Laura? And Derek?" Peter wants to know.

"We don't know." Noah admits. "We know the live in New York, but have no way of contacting them. According to Jennifer, your nurse, Laura comes once or twice a year. The last time she came was late May, so they have no way of knowing for sure when she might drop by next."

Peter nods. He still has clashing feelings regarding his niece and nephew, their abandonment of him; especially his alpha's abandonment of him. At the same time, the fact that Noah and Stiles are being so accommodating, doing everything they can to help him, to make him feel welcome, accepted… there is a reason he refers to them as his pack. He's beginning to suspect that even without actual wolves or an alpha, he might belong to a new pack now.

**xXx**

Peter leaves the hospital at the end of January. Still mostly faking his difficulty walking as, since first waking up and officially acknowledging the pack, his healing has improved. His scars are also lessening. Which they've half-excused with a story about herb-poultices and alternative methods Stiles and Lydia have been researching.

Malia is officially Noah's daughter. While Noah offered Peter to help him adopt her, the were insisted that she'd be safer with him. Even then, it was Malia's own idea to make her name: Malia Stilinski-Hale, acknowledging both men as her fathers.

When the adoption goes through, just two days after Peter is discharged from the hospital, Erica insists on celebrating. Stiles takes great joy in cooking for them, and then they all slip to the ice-rink after-hours. Jackson insisting that he can convince the boy working there to let them in. Stiles doesn't fully understand the significance of that until he sees just who Jackson is slipping some cash to: Boyd. Though, surprisingly enough, it's Erica who invites the shy boy to join them in the ice.

"What?" She asks when Stiles questions her about it. "You were looking at him!"

"I was looking at him?" Stiles doesn't understand.

"Yeah, the same way you looked at me that day in the hospital, or at Jackson after he made his whole speech about wanting to be with Lydia." Erica explains. "You get this look in your eyes, like you've just decided they're going to join us, and that's that." She shrugs. "So I decided I'd skip a few steps. You know, your whole awkward approach, his shy reply, the dancing around, and jump straight into getting him to actually join the group."

She's smiling wide, so proud of herself, and Stiles can only laugh, that's Erica alright. Epileptic human or healthy were, she'll never truly change, and he loves that.

She's also the one who actually gets off the table, marches straight to the corner where Boyd is sitting, alone, and pulls him to them, explaining on the way how he's their friend now and no longer allowed to be alone. Boyd says nothing, just follows her, all the while staring at her like she's the most precious thing in the world, like she… like she's the moon itself. Stiles swallows, because that look in his eyes, it reminds him painfully of another pair of eyes, staring at him, just for a moment, a heartbeat… his very last…

It's until the end of the week, as they're leaving the school following the first lacrosse practice (Jackson insisted that they all should join, and since Stiles has actually been running and doing katas, he's in good enough condition for it not to have been as awful an idea as it was the first time around… Scott is part of the team too, though he hasn't approached Stiles since the Winter Formal), that Stiles realizes why he feels like something's been missing: Derek hasn't arrived to Beacon Hills.

For that matter, neither has Laura. Which probably wouldn't be surprising since, despite whatever excuse Deaton might have used to lure the Argents into town, there are no wild werewolves around. Peter spent his first full moon since getting out of the hospital, on Wednesday, enjoying a run around the far side of the preserve, on the other side of BH itself. So, no Laura, no Derek… Stiles and Lydia officially have no idea what the hell is going to happen next!

**xXx**

It's Noah's idea to reopen the investigation into the Hale Fire this time around. Stiles is quite sure that he's doing it in order to not only make justice, but to make sure Peter won't be going after them as soon as he's well enough. It shouldn't be hard, Stiles solved the whole thing almost single handed the first time around. Except back then he was doing the work after things had already happened. Taking the victims' names and researching them until he found how they were all connected. It's harder to get proof, to justify looking up those people when nothing has happened to bring them to the authorities' attention yet.

Mr. Myers is easy enough. Noah was never comfortable with how quickly that investigation was closed and had no problem re-opening it and sending it to someone else to confirm his suspicions that there were things either missing, badly investigated or even outright falsified in that report. Stiles has suggested to his dad that he bring in all known arsonists in the county and interrogate them regarding the case, and what they were doing back then, but the sheriff still sees that as an abuse of power. So Stiles tries to find another way to justify it, because while his dad might accept the whole 'I know this because of time-travel', it's not exactly a legal reason.

Lydia and Stiles have taken to meeting in the one place they're relatively certain they won't be interrupted: the cellar underneath the dead Nemeton's roots. There's still enough magic in the place to conceal them from unwanted eyes and ears, and enough to keep the Nogitsune, still in its fly-form and inside a thoroughly reinforced glass jar, secure. In fact, one of the first things Stiles did with his new power was move the jar deeper into the earth and among the roots, to ensure even the one who first put it there wouldn't be able to find it or access it. The last thing they need is the nogitsune messing up their lives… again.

"No new ideas yet?" Lydia inquires.

They're talking about the arson investigation of course. She's preparing a paper that will help the Sheriff bring Harris in. Bad as they might have once felt about the man being sacrificed, he still never paid for his part in the deaths of the Hales, and he ought to. Also, he's a crappy teacher and even Lydia's eager to get rid of him.

"None." Stiles admits, running a hand through his growing hair. "I don't want to risk revealing we time-traveled to anyone else. And we know that won't fly, legally speaking. But Peter will not be patient forever…"

"He's already shown more patience and restraint than I ever expected him to." Lydia admits.

Stiles nods several times, before stopping and pressing fingers to his temples. He still has an awful migraine from that morning.

"Again?" Lydia asks, more softly.

"He keeps trying and trying." Stiles nods with an exhausted sigh, eyes tight as he waits for the wave of pain to pass. "I've no idea what the hell he's doing exactly, other than seeking the power that used to be in the Nemeton, and trying to claim it for himself. One thing's for sure though, if there were any power left for him to tap into, the whole town would have been beyond corrupted already. He's even managed to affect the traces left in the Hale House."

"That's not the kind of power he can draw from." Lydia points out.

"No, it's not. But he's still touching it, continuously. I've no idea what that might do long term, especially considering the imprint in that place…"

"You think he might end up affecting the Hales indirectly."

"I've no idea. I mean, they're connected to it, because of what happened, all the bonds that were broken there, all the blood spilled, their blood. It may not be the kind of power Deaton can draw from, but he might still be able to affect it somehow. I don't like that."

"It was your choice not to face him directly."

"It's too risky. Doing that would mean revealing ourselves outright and if we fail… we aren't ready for that yet."

"Then maybe we should go check out the house for the time being. There might be something we can do to make sure he can do nothing to it."

Stiles nodded, it's the best plan they have, he'll go with it.

They drop by the old Hale House the very next day to get an idea for the place, the kind of energies in it. Lydia picks up on them better than Stiles, which is normal with her being a Banshee, her connection to death, the Other Side and all that. They still have to wait for the next New Moon on May 3rd to do the ritual that should shield the place from whatever Deaton (or anyone else) might try to do.

Noah doesn't have a shift that night, but the teens manage to convince him that they'll be alright. Stiles promises to keep his cellphone on him at all times. Also, he has a new weapon-of-sorts. A tattoo behind one shoulder, a triskele. What makes it special is that the whole tattoo is inlaid with mountain ash, spelled in such a way to stay on him, except when he needs it, then it'll go to his hand and work like any mountain ash (it'll also go back to him afterwards).

"Any news on the case front?" Lydia asks as they're setting up things.

"Not much." Stiles admits. "We got Matthews, the guy from the video store. He was actually arrested for a completely different matter, but dad managed to trick him into admitting his involvement with the Hale fire. His lawyer is currently trying to negotiate some sort of deal in exchange of the names of the others involved."

"But you already know the other people involved, it cannot be that hard to get them." Lydia points out, clearly not liking the idea.

"The other arsonists, yeah, they'll be easy enough." Stiles nods. "Even Harris, once dad gets at least one person to agree with the conclusions you outlined in that 'consultant report'. I know you don't like the idea of anyone going free, neither do I. But if Matthews is capable of giving us Kate…? Lets be honest here, whatever we might do, whatever articles and new investigations we might focus on, it'll be next to impossible to pin the whole thing on Kate, unless someone else involves her. And if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not put that kind of burden on Derek."

"Not that we could, even if we wanted to. We've no idea how to even locate him."

"There's that, yes. In any case, all I want is to finally get Kate behind bars. She needs to pay for all the people she killed that day."

"Yeah, she does."

Conversation finished, sky fully dark, with no moon and only the stars to give them light, it's time for the teenagers to get to work. The ritual itself isn't hard, though it certainly is lengthy. Lydia and Stiles take turn circling the remains of the house with one element at a time, and then mountain ash, creating a circle of protection. Then they call for the stars as their witnesses, and even the moon. Even though it's the new moon, it works, since they're precisely asking for the house to be protected, occluded, much as the moon is in that moment. They can both feel the exact moment it takes. They're also sure if Deaton hasn't realized it yet he certainly will when he next tries to call on any sort of power (that almost makes Stiles cackle in glee, actually).

**xXx**

It's a week later that things go completely nuts. It starts with Laura's arrival to town. At first Stiles thinks she's finally arrived to check on Peter, and warns everyone to be ready when the hospital sends her to their place. Except she doesn't go, not to the Stilinski home, and not to the hospital. Lydia suggests it might be connected to the arson investigation; which has gotten more intense, Matthews's lawyers are still trying to get a good deal, though Noah refuses to let him get off scot free, not when his actions (and everyone else involved) resulted in the awful deaths of eight people, three of them children. Harris… for some reason no one can quite comprehend suddenly grew a conscience and confessed to his involvement, though he couldn't give them the name of the woman as he apparently never bothered to learn it.

As it happens, that's not the reason either, or in any case, Laura never drops by the station, at all.

"She's here for another reason." Stiles states soberly.

She and Stiles are just leaving the school after working together on a project for one of their online college courses.

"Yeah, no shit Sherlock." Lydia curses, which is most unusual in her.

Stiles knows the whole thing is getting on her last nerve. Even Jackson revealing himself in the parking lot, waiting to take her home, doesn't improve her mood much (though she does smile at him, so he knows her anger is not directed at him). And then Stiles senses something's off.

"Fuck!" he curses as he realizes what's wrong. "Lyds!"

He barely manages to push Lydia to one side before jumping on the opposite direction before a 5' 7" tall figure rushes with enough force it actually dents the passenger door of Stiles's jeep as it slams into it.

"Run Lydia!" Stiles yells at the redhead, at the same time he pulls out a small blade from his sneakers and slashes at the were to pull her attention onto him.

Her… because that's Laura Hale, in full alpha form, and she's angry… She growls at him, pretty much stalking him, fangs bared, eyes flashing red, and he hasn't the slightest idea what the hell's wrong with her.

"Laura!" He yells even as he backs away, blade in hand. "Focus! I'm not your enemy. Why the hell are you attacking me?!"

He gets no answer, the she-wolf seems to be too far gone. Stiles does very little; he really, really doesn't want to hurt Derek's sister. He knows how much the loss of her hurt him, and while he'll never stop believing that she wasn't a good alpha, that she didn't help Derek the way he needed and deserved to be helped… she's still his alpha, and his sister, and Stiles doesn't want to be the one to take her from him this time around.

Stiles is so conflicted by all the thoughts that he misses a step, falling backwards in a sprawl on the sidewalk.

The alpha crouches low, probably preparing to leap at him; but before she can there's the screech of breaks, tires squealing and an agate gray Porsche slams into her side with enough force to throw her several feet.

"Stilinski!" Jackson yells over the roar of his own engine even as he switches into gear. "Get in the car! Now!"

Lydia, being very cooperative, has already slipped into the back of the car. Not much space there, but still. Stiles doesn't ask any questions, he throws himself into the car, barely closing the door when they're already rushing out of the school parking lot, tires squealing as they take the curve a bit too fast. Not that any of them really care, all they want is to get away from the crazy alpha werewolf.

"One of you better explain to me what the hell that was!" Jackson demands once they've put a decent amount of space between them and the wolf.

"That was a werewolf." Stiles answered in his most deadpan tone, still somewhat breathless.

Lydia just rolls her eyes, knowing Jackson isn't going to be satisfied with just that. Of course she's right. She herself is a bit restless though. She managed to call on just enough power to reinforce the Porsche as they hit the alpha, but she had to do it all so fast… it wasn't easy on her. Even with her boost magic just doesn't come as easily to her as it comes to Stiles (then again, she doubts anyone can do magic with the ease Stiles does…).

"It's a bit of a long story Jackson." Lydia admits. "I promise we'll tell you just… you gotta promise not to interrupt."

Jackson swallows, probably suspecting that whatever might be coming, it's going to change everything. But he has a feeling he needs to know, that it'll be the only way he can keep Lydia… and if there's one thing he'll never do that's let go of her of his own will so… he nods.

Lydia never thought about sharing their story with anyone, especially where it came to the time travel. She wasn't like Stiles, who loves his dad so much it pained him to lie to the man… then again, when they first traveled to the past, Lydia never expected to end up with Jackson. She spent years convincing herself that what they had was nothing more than a teenage romance, young love. That regardless of the miracle that was his return after being a kanima, and Peter's whole spiel about 'the power of love'… theirs hadn't been that awesome. After all, he left, and she dated other people, right? Except none of those ever felt right, none, nothing and no one had been able to fill that emptiness in her heart… until the day Jackson went and sat beside her, on their lunch-table, until he gave that whole speech, before practically the whole school… until he chose her…

She makes up her mind then, to tell him. Not just about werewolves, banshees, magic and the supernatural in general… but also the truth about her, about her past, about the time that was and will never be again.

They stay there, by the side of the road, for hours. Lydia handles most of the telling, but Stiles is there to clarify a few things, and to help when she has a hard time relating something. He's surprised when she decides to tell Jackson about his leaving, what she knew about his life in London, about his relationship with Ethan…

"We need to begin planning." Jackson announces once it was all said and done.

"What…?" Lydia clearly doesn't understand.

"There's no way I'm leaving for London, or anywhere else in the summer, so the two of you are going to help me find some way to stay here because I…"

He doesn't get to finish his tirade, he cannot, when suddenly Lydia is all over him, holding him tight and so close to crying… she's nothing like the Lydia Martin they both know and yet… Stiles understands. He's quite sure he wouldn't be much better if… if a certain someone ever made that kind of declaration regarding him. Because what Jackson just said… he might not have actually said the words: I love you, but they were just as good. He made his choice, he isn't leaving, not Beacon Hills, and not Lydia, not then, not ever.

**xXx**

The house is dark when Jackson and Lydia drop Stiles off, but he doesn't pay much mind to it. It's late, and thus not surprising that the others would have already gone to sleep. At least that's what he thinks until he actually enters the house and the first thing he sees is Malia's terrified eyes staring straight at him. She cannot even scream, due to the cloth secured around her head, blocking her mouth, and she's tied tightly to one of the dining room chairs. The truly terrifying part is that she's not the only one, his dad is right beside her, equally tied and gagged, with the addition of blood mating his temple. Stiles has no doubt that fought… and lost.

"Come in, come in little boy." A sickly sweet voice calls to him in a sing-song tone. "Tired of playing detective for the day?"

Stiles feels almost sick instantly, he recognizes that voice: Kate Argent.

"Wa… who are you?" He asks, purposefully letting the fear he feels deep down tint his voice. "What do you want?"

"I want to know how you know the things you do." She responds standing, like a predator, from the couch where she'd been sprawled, mostly hidden in shadows. "Tell me little red, are you friends with the big bad wolf?"

"I… I have no idea what…" Stiles begins.

"Hale!" She snarls, getting into his personal space. "You must know someone! How else would you know about the fire? Why do you even care about a bunch of dogs that got put down?!"

There's a glint in her eyes, it shows everyone that looks that she's crazy, completely demented. Stiles knows it's a bad idea to provoke her and yet… and yet hearing her talking about the Hale fire, about all who died so callously, like the truly were animals… he cannot stand it.

"You're the only animal here." He retorts. "A monster."

"They're the monsters!" Kate replies. "Abominations that shouldn't exist. And we'll make sure they don't! We'll kill them. Every single one of them!"

"What about the innocents?" He demands. "The ones who haven't hurt anyone? What about the children?! There were children in that house!"

"Monsters! All of them! They deserved to die! I burned them all! I destroyed them like I'll destroy all the abominations in this world… as well as everyone who gets in my way…"

He knows exactly what that means. Stiles tries to think of something to do, some way to fight back. But the terror at seeing his dad and sister as they are in that moment has touched him so deeply he has no idea what to do in that moment. Also, he's still pretty much crashing after the adrenaline rush Laura's unexpected attack (and the following harrowing talk to Jackson) caused. He cannot even think about doing anything.

There's a howl then, loud and deep. Stiles remembers Peter. The man who has trouble sleeping and has made a habit of taking long walks in the middle of the night to pass the time; excusing his lack of sleep saying he's slept enough for a lifetime, all those years in a coma. Also, it's the full moon, so of course he'd have been out. Stiles hadn't even thought to wonder where he might be, when he only found Malia and his dad tied up.

Peter enters the house through the back door, and while Kate is gathering her wits (she clearly wasn't expecting a wolf to actually make an appearance) he goes straight for her. Kate gets a set of deep (but not deep enough) scratches on her stomach as she half rushes, half stumbles away from Stiles. Who takes the opportunity to rush to his dad's side and then pulls out his concealed knife (the very same he wielded to protect himself from Laura earlier… and he cannot believe it's been less than three hours since then!) and gets to work on the zip-ties keeping him in place.

"I'll kill you!" Kate screeches. "All of you!"

The moment he's free Noah practically throws himself off the chair before pretty much dragging himself across the floor and to the little safe concealed behind several pictures on a small table. It's where he keeps his emergency gun.

Stiles is halfway through cutting (or more like sawing through) Malia's ropes (Kate clearly knew she was a were, as she'd used ropes infused with wolfsbane… not quite as badly for Malia, since she was a coyote rather than a wolf, but she still was the daughter of a werewolf, so she wasn't completely immune either) when suddenly a lot happens very fast:

Noah shoots at Kate a couple of times, nicking her on her right leg with the first one, but completely missing with the second. Kate slashes at Peter, cutting him on the face, right across most of the scars that still remain from the fire. Is about to stab him in the neck when the bullet burning the side of her leg (though it never actually penetrates) and Peter's instinctive retreat saves his life. She reacts by turning to Noah, pointing a gun of her own at him.

"Drop it!" She yells at him.

"No." Noah refuses.

And then Kate, who's beyond crazy but not stupid, turns the gun towards Peter.

"Noah, run." Peter gasps through the pain caused by the cut on his face (the knife was clearly infused with wolfsbane). "Take the kids and run."

"No one's going anywhere." Kate snarls.

Not wanting her to point the gun at one of his children, Noah drops the gun and stands, hands raised in a motion of surrender. Kate waves her gun then, wanting him to get closer. He does, even as he keeps trying to think of something he might do.

"Why did you have to go digging into my business?" She asks Noah in an almost conversational tone, like they're having an easy talk, rather than fighting for their lives.

"Because justice must be served and you deserve to pay for your crimes." Noah answers with absolute honesty.

"Don't you know? I'm beyond mere human laws. I serve a higher purpose by hunting and killing down the monsters." It's clear she's completely insane.

It's also clear she doesn't plan on letting any of them live past tonight…

"Too bad you had to get involved sheriff, now you'll have to die too." She says, easy as anything, as she pulls the trigger.

Peter is moving before she has even finished the motion. It all happens so fast that it takes everyone else a couple of seconds to realize that Peter just took a bullet to the gut for Noah… a bullet that would have hit the man's chest… killing him instantly.

"Dad!" Malia and Stiles scream practically in unison.

Malia snarls, shifting fully into a coyote for the first time since choosing to be human again, throwing herself at Kate and using her paws to scratch at her face. Kate screeches, waving the gun wildly and shooting at least twice, miraculously missing everyone, before managing to catch Malia's tail and pulling on it to throw the coyote violently against a wall. Where she shifts back, naked and unconscious.

"Malia!" Noah cries out.

Peter is in too much pain to do even that.

Kate raises her gun again, and Stiles reacts instinctively. He didn't quite notice when he picked up his dad's gun, but in that moment he simply aims and fires at Kate, the first bullet hits her flank, calling her attention, but not really doing much harm in the grand scheme of things; the second though… that one hits low on the right side of her chest. Stiles knows enough about biology to understand that though he didn't manage to hit the heart, he's certainly hit something important… the blood that begins dripping from the edge of Kate's mouth even as she coughs and pants reveals what it was exactly: a lung.

The loud sound of sirens breaks the tension, even as Stiles lets himself fall to his knees, his dad's gun still in hand. Someone's called the police, and probably (hopefully) an ambulance as well. Stiles nods to himself and stays where he is, waiting.

**xXx**

Stiles refuses to let the paramedics administer anything until everyone's at the hospital and Melissa promises she and Rona will oversee things personally. Then he simply blacks out, the exhaustion he was keeping at bay by sheer force of will finally overtaking him.

He wakes up the next morning to Lydia sitting on a chair beside his bed.

"Sh…" She shushes him the moment she sees him tense. "Everything's alright. Everyone's just fine. Malia was just knocked out for a little while, she insisted on staying because you were all here, and the nurses got her a bed, but she's just fine. Peter's on a bed, has been complaining about having to keep from healing too quickly in order to avoid suspicion, and your dad is currently in the cafeteria, I managed to convince him to get some lunch and he's also probably answering some questions from his deputies. Jackson is keeping an eye on him for us."

She makes a pause to make sure Stiles is conscious enough to understand everything, then goes on with the rest.

"Kate Argent is dead. According to what Peter, Noah and even Malia already explained, she broke into your home last night and took your dad and sister hostage. She somehow found out that the sheriff was close to finding the person behind the burning of the Hale house… or more precisely, that she was the person responsible. Her death is being ruled self-defense, though no one's actually said who shot her…"

"Me…" Stiles's voice is a bit rough, but he pushes on. "I shot her. With my dad's gun. She said she was going to kill us all, had already shot Peter… while actually trying to shoot my dad. She threw Malia aside like she was a rag-doll… I had to do something!"

"I know Stiles, I know you did." Lydia murmurs at him, embracing him tightly. "You did what you had to do to protect your family, your pack. There's nothing wrong with that."

It's not the first time he (either of them really) kills to protect those they love; but while she's quite pragmatic about it… she knows its harder for Stiles. Most see him as having rather… flexible morals, she knows; but while he can be very understanding about the necessity of killing, and has little trouble accepting it from others, he still has a very hard time when pushed to do it himself. She saw it with Donovan, and when that hunter that tried to kill Scott… and she's quite sure that Scott's own reaction both those times has something to do with it. Scott can be so self-righteous, insisting on seeing the world in black and white, insisting on keeping his hands clean… well, there's a reason why he died, while they survived, crass as it might sound.

"Now what?" Stiles inquires after getting himself under control.

"Now we get out of this hospital and… we move on, I suppose." Lydia offers with a shrug.

Truth is, she doesn't know either. Things are going nothing like they did the first time around, they simply have no way to prepare for what might be coming anymore. Doesn't mean they're about to give up though… they'll never give up.

"Any news about Laura?" He asks, almost as an after thought.

"None." Lydia shakes her head. "Though I can only hope she won't be attacking us again. I still have no idea what the hell was wrong with her last night."

Stiles just shakes his head. He doesn't know either. There was the full moon of course, but Laura is supposed to be an alpha, she shouldn't be losing control so easily. And if she didn't lose control, if she attacked him intentionally, why?

As it happens, and though neither of them could have known it in that moment, Laura wouldn't be attacking them again. It would have been hard for her to do so when she was no longer alive, her body cut in two parts, for others to eventually find. It would seem the more some things changed, the more others stayed the same…

* * *

So, am I crazy or what? (And this time the question isn't just about the chapter, it concerns the video too).

But focusing on the chapter... really, the more some things change, the more others stay the same. I did consider keeping Laura alive. But while there are some quite awesome fics with that idea around, it didn't fit with what I wanted to do with this story. Also, her death is important, its a catalyst for quite a few things that will be happening in the next two parts, including one of the climaxes of these story.

For those still waiting for Derek... I'm sorry! I promise to you there's a very god reason. Things have to build up at their own pace. And I hope you'll decide the wait was worth it in the end. (Sterek Is Endgame, no matter what some of you might think right now).

Next update will be coming in two weeks. It's one of the two longest in the fic and, in many ways, the reason this fic exists at all. So I hope you'll all like it.

Please don't forget to reviews (I live for your comments! Especially those where you actually tell me your thoughts on the story, or a particular scene, idea, anything!).

See ya around!


	4. Shadows Dance

Chapter summary: It's always hard for new packs to grow into themselves, it's even harder when half the members are keeping secrets from the other half, and even from each other; and yet, they need the pack, for in the end, it's the only way they'll survive.

A new piece is here and, as you'll soon see, this one is told a bit differently. Still in 3rd person narrator, but the tenses... they get a bit wonky. It still all has a reason and you can understand it, I'm sure. In any case, the very beginning of this fic is one of the three reason Time River exists at all (the other two being my desire to have a sane Peter wake up from that coma, and Stiles having the place he deserves rather than just being a joke/convenient researcher/punching bag as the mood struck (as it struck everyone else). Everything else followed from that.

So... enjoy!

* * *

**Shadows Dance **

Stiles knew, when they took that leap into the past, that things would change, and more than just what Lydia and he chose to change. It was something he knew all along, a natural consequence he… they, accepted for the chance at making things better than the first time around. One that was shown quite clearly (graphically) to them with the death of Henry Tate in that car accident, Scott's last asthma attack, The Argents' early arrival, the lack of Derek, Laura's crazy attack, Kate's own attack… yet, if there was one thing Stiles never expected, one thing he never imagined being even in the realm of possibility, it was ever standing against the boy who was as good as his own brother… Even if they hadn't been close for months, almost a year. Scott was… he was family, and yet…

That's exactly what's happening right this moment. As they all stand there, in that clearing, just outside an abandoned warehouse, in a most tense stand-off. Pack, vs, hunters. Stiles of course is standing with his pack, and Scott… he's standing with the hunters…

**xXx**

All Stiles wanted was a few days of peace. Just a few days. The case had been solved, Kate was dead while her accomplices would be getting to spend a good few years behind bars, Peter was awake, Laura hadn't attacked them again, the 'pack' was flourishing… was it too much to ask for a little peace?! Apparently, it was.

First there was Gerard Argent, he'd arrived for Kate's funeral; the real problem was when he stayed. He harassed Noah, about his daughter's death, as if waiting to catch the sheriff in a lie. They knew, of course, he wanted to blame werewolves for her death. Even if the claw marks on her were so shallow they'd barely drawn any blood at all, even when it was quite clear she died from the bullet wounds, and it was on-file that the gun was the sheriff's personal one, that he was the one to fire (that was the only part they lied on, as Peter warned Noah that Gerard might seek vengeance for the death of his daughter). Stiles knew, he understood that he needed to stick to the official version of events, and while he hated his dad putting himself in Gerard's crosshairs to protect him… he also understood why he did.

"Just, I'll make something very clear, he comes after this family, this pack, again, and all bets are off." Stiles stated in a voice so serious and edged with a darkness that hinted at his own past (at the future that, hopefully, would never be).

"If he tries anything I'll tear out his throat." Peter snarled.

"With your teeth?" Stiles asked with a smirk, unable to help himself.

He and Lydia chuckled at that one, though the others just blinked, not really getting it. Then again, that was to be expected, since it hadn't happened yet…

As if Gerard's arrival and his insistence on blaming a wolf, any wolf, for his daughter's demise weren't bad enough. Then the sheriff found Laura Hale's body… or rather, half of it.

"Really?!" Stiles snapped, unable to hold back his near-hysteric rant. "This?! Again?!" He kicked at a wall. "I thought we managed to avoid all this when she failed to appear back in January?! How the hell did this happen, and why now?!"

"I didn't do it." Peter called out straight out.

"Of course you didn't do it Peter." Lydia scoffed in her tone of 'you are being stupid, stop it'.

"She was cut in half, chances are, Gerard did it, and if not him directly, one of his guys." Stiles pointed out evenly.

"Yes, but why?" Jackson pressed.

"I have no idea Jackson!" Stiles snapped. "Last time around Peter was nuts, and Laura was dead even before she was cut in fucking half!"

Only the ones who knew about the time-travel were present in that moment (which meant Stiles, his dad, Peter, Lydia and Jackson).

"Derek will be coming." Peter pointed out.

"Will he?" Noah inquired, curious. "I mean, not be cruel or anything Peter but you didn't know she was dead until we found the body…"

"Because she wasn't my pack." Peter did his best to explain. "Not since she abandoned me, six years ago. And then when you all visited me at the hospital, you kept going, and kept talking, and trying and… you became my pack. You know that, you can feel it."

"Yeah…" Jackson nodded. "How does that work exactly. I mean, we don't have an alpha, I thought a pack needed one of those. Most of us aren't even wolves!"

"I think it's all thanks to our good friend Stiles… our surrogate alpha." There was a gleam in Peter's eyes as he said that.

Stiles said nothing at all, though he looked like he might go bang his head against a wall at any moment. It wasn't like he didn't know, or at the very least suspected that it was his magic that had helped create the pack-bonds that connected all of them. He was sure even Erica and Boyd must be able to feel them, at least to a point, though since they still didn't know about the supernatural they had no idea what it was, and no one was saying anything about it yet.

"We still need an alpha, a real one." Stiles muttered as he ran a hand through his hair.

He was letting it grow, no longer liking the buzzcut. He didn't intend to let it get quite as long as he'd worn it in the other future… but still (and definitely no beard. Der… others might look really hot with facial hair, him? Not so much).

Stiles knew exactly who he'd prefer as the alpha, but he had no idea how that would even be possible. Unless Derek inherited Laura's alpha spark upon her death, and a part of Stiles believed (or wanted to) that if Derek were an alpha, he'd know, somehow.

"So, Derek's coming, he won't like knowing Laura's dead." Lydia summarized. "Do we even know why she was attacking us the other night? Why she came back late? Or at all?"

"No, no, and once again, no." Stiles shook his head. "This is going to be a nightmare…"

And contrary to popular opinion, he hated being right. Or at least he did sometimes. Like right then. When Derek Hale arrived to Beacon Hills two days later, and suddenly they had even more trouble piling on them all.

Thankfully (or not so much) the first time they met it happened in the burnt ruins of the Hale manor and Stiles was alone. Lydia knew he was there, Stiles told her he was going to check out that their ritual was holding. The fact that Deaton hadn't tried anything since the last time was worrying him, rather than setting him at ease. Laura's attack… that had not been an accident. And with Laura dead, it really was only a matter of time.

Stiles was so focused on the protection they'd placed that he didn't really notice he was being stalked. Wasn't aware of anything at all until he found himself being slammed against a charred wall hard enough he feared it might actually fall on him at any moment, not to mention all the dust and blackened plaster that fell upon him.

Stiles blinked, instinctively bracing himself for a fight, even as a corner of his mind wondered at the lack of response from his magic. When his eyes actually laid on Derek he had to almost bite his lip to keep from calling out his name like a part of him really, really wanted to. He understood then why his magic hadn't acted out to defend him. It was because there was no way that in that or in any world (timeline, universe, etc) he would see Derek Hale as an enemy…

"What did you do to Laura?!" Derek actually growled into his face.

The (physically) older male was so completely out of control that there was an animal undertone to his growl, and his eyes flashed, if only for a second, they flashed blue…

"Hey! You're still a beta…" Stiles blurted out, unable to help himself.

He realized his mistake when Derek pulled him away from the wall just to slam him against it again, a piece of wall actually falling off then.

"What do you know about that?!" Derek demanding, going fully into beta-shift.

Stiles's mind ran as fast as possible as he sought the best possible answer to that question. In the end he decided to go with the truth (always the best when dealing with weres and other such creatures capable of hearing a lie), just not all of it.

"My little sister is a were." He answered simply. "Of course I know!"

"Your sister…?" That clearly threw Derek for a loop.

"Her name is Malia, I found her in the woods months ago, she… I suppose she grew attached quickly, didn't want to leave, and dad decided to adopt her." Stiles had always been good at spinning stories, there wasn't a single lie in his words, he just wasn't saying everything.

"So you know I am…" Derek cut off.

"A were, yes." Stiles nodded. "Now, mind telling me why you're threatening me?"

That seemed to bring Derek back to the matter at hand though, thankfully, he didn't decide to slam Stiles against the wall again (the boy had a feeling that, had he tried, both of them might have ended going through the wall…).

"What did you do to Laura?!" Derek demanded again in a growl. "What did you do to my sister? Answer me!"

Stiles could have sworn he felt a pull then. A pull to obey, to submit… but that was impossible. Derek was a beta not an alpha! Stiles exhaled, far as he knew it wasn't even Derek's fault but Stiles's own, it was probably the memory of hi… the other Derek.

"We did nothing to her." Stiles answered evenly. "Mal… my little sis, she was the one who found, well, one half of the body. My dad's deputies found the other half that same night."

"Your dad's deputies?" Derek's eyes narrowed.

"My dad's the sheriff." Stiles answered simply. "Noah Stilinski." He made a pause before adding, in a softer voice. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Derek looked so lost right then… it was just for a few seconds, but it still took every ounce of his will for Stiles to hold back, to not embrace the were tightly, hold him, promise him everything would be alright, that he didn't have to be alone… and then Derek pulled himself together, still looking darkly at Stiles.

"You did something." He snarled. "I know you did. And I will find out what!"

He let go of Stiles, so abruptly the boy fell on his ass, not quite knowing what to say, do, or even think, as Derek Hale turned his back on him and stalked out of the place. Stiles didn't know if he wanted to cry or scream in that moment. In the end he settled for punching the ground, feeling a degree of satisfaction from the way the floor creaked under the force of the hit. Then he made himself stand and return to his jeep. His phone was in hand and he was dialing before he was even fully aware of his actions:

"Lyds… we have a problem…"

**xXx**

Stiles knew Derek wouldn't stop trying to find the one responsible for the death of his sister (though he still kept wondering what made him blame Stiles). What he wasn't expecting was when he and Mal got back home after some grocery shopping to find Derek punching Peter with enough force to throw him straight across the living room and onto the dining room table.

"Peter!/Papa!" The two cried out in horror.

Stiles was horrified. He'd been so sure that they'd be safe at home. He made sure to ward the place to hell and back the moment his power was at full again. They were supposed to be safe in there. He was sure that the wards would be able to stand against insane weres, psychopathic hunters, megalomaniac druids, evil witches, even the demented darach! The wards weren't a normal barrier, not mountain ash or anything like that; there were anchored with runes, but Stiles's own will had raised them, meant to keep out anything and anyone that might intend them harm. And yet, those same wards would never consider Derek an enemy, because his own heart would never do that. It was unthinkable for him…

"I didn't kill Laura!" Peter practically roared as Noah helped him back onto his feet. "She was my niece! I don't… I don't know what the hell makes you think…"

"If not you, then who?!" Derek demanded, not attacking him again, but still not backing down.

"I don't know!" Peter snapped. "But not knowing doesn't make me guilty!"

"No, but being up and about does!" Derek hissed.

That threw everyone for a loop.

"What?! So if I'm healing, finally, after six fucking years, that means I must have killed my niece?!" It was hard to tell if Peter's fury or his hurt was chief in that moment.

"You were catatonic, no matter what anyone tried, you weren't healing!" Derek half snarled, half-sobbed. "We tried everything..."

"You Abandoned Me!" Peter cut him off, emphasizing each word. "You packed your bags and you left for the other side of the country! Leaving me in that freaking hospital! Trapped inside my own head! Alone with my pain and broken bonds! Healing cell by cell!"

"We tried everything." Derek insisted. "I called to you, screamed until my voice was hoarse. Broke your arm in an attempt to kick-start your healing, but nothing worked! In the end… we couldn't stay… we just… it hurt too much."

"You left me." Peter's tone softened but he still didn't fully back down. "You might be my family Derek, both you and Laura, but you stopped being my pack the day you left me to rot in that hospital." He exhaled. "You want to know how I'm 'up and about'? It's thanks to my pack!" He waved his hands around to signal to everyone. "They took an interest in me, even when they had no reason to do so. They gave me a reason to heal, a reason to live even after losing so much… they did not give up on me…"

Derek clearly had no words to say to that. Instead he just walked out of the house. Though he didn't go far. Collapsing just outside the back-door, by the porch steps. Stiles hesitated for all of two seconds, while Noah led Peter to a couch and Malia rush to them with wipes in hand; Peter raised his head to see Stiles and cocked his head to a side, as if giving silent permission. That was all Stiles needed and he went after Derek.

He saw the were on the steps, looking so lost Stiles's heart ached. He wished so much to be able to comfort him somehow… but Derek didn't know him. So Stiles just dropped on the other side of the steps, leaving about half a yard of space. Neither of them said a word for the longest time, until Derek pulled out his phone and fiddled with it a little; Stiles understood when a recording began playing: a voicemail:

"Der…? There's something really, really wrong in this town. I spoke to our mother's Emissary. He's retired now, but he agreed to see me. He said that someone has taken the power from the Nemeton for some nefarious purpose. He tried to call for the protection from our line, and then that was cut from him as well. He asked for my help. Told me where to go to find the right scent to track. So that's what I'm doing. I found the scent earlier today. They've been at the Nemeton and the ruins of the house. Two people. I'm going after them tonight. You stay safe Der, I'll be back with you soon."

A beep announced the end of the recording. Derek still said nothing, just put the phone away, his eyes fixed on the trees behind Stiles's house.

"That's why you thought we killed her…" Stiles murmured in quiet understanding.

"That was the last thing I heard from Laura." Derek admitted quietly. "I didn't even answer the phone! I was in the shower, didn't even hear it over the sound of the water. Then I was running late for my job. I worked in a security firm, the late shift… My boss knew about my true nature, it was convenient. I didn't even know she called at all until I got off my shift in the morning. Was about to call her back and then… pain, there was nothing but pain. So bad I almost blacked out."

"You felt the pack-bond breaking when she died…" Stiles realized.

"I did." Derek nodded grimly. "She was all I had left… my alpha, my sister…"

Stiles bit his tongue so as not to bring up Peter again. That was an entirely different matter.

"And you thought we were responsible because the last thing your sister did was go looking for us." Stiles nodded in understanding. "There's one thing I don't get though. Why did she attack us exactly? I mean, it's one thing to be distrustful, even confrontational, but she attacked us, for no reason! She didn't even ask any questions."

"Laura wouldn't do that." Derek shook his head. "And who's us?"

"A friend and I." Stiles answered vaguely, not wanting to mention anyone else from the pack unless it was absolutely necessary. "I don't know what to tell you. If I had to guess I'd say she was completely feral. It was the afternoon but it was still light out, and she came after us. On the school parking lot! As a fully-shifted wolf! Do you have any idea what might have happened if anyone not in the known had seen her?!"

"That doesn't sound like Laura at all… I need to go talk to Deaton."

And there it was, the moment when he had to make up his mind. Either Stiles held onto all his secrets, let Derek go, let him risk his life with the bastard of a pseudo-Druid… it was never really a choice in the end.

"Don't." Stiles's hand shot out to hold Derek's wrist instantly. "I… I know this is going to sound absolutely nuts, and I don't actually have a way to prove it. Not right now, not… yet. But I don't think you can trust Deaton. I mean, your sister went to see him, and next we know, she's trying to kill me and my friends, and then, after we got away, she ended up doing selene-knows-what-else, only to die before sunrise! If you suspect me because I was one of the last people to see her, you should also suspect that so-called druid. And I'm not sure you should be risking yourself."

"What?! You think Deaton killed her? He was my mother's emissary!"

"Was he? Then why didn't he help you at all since the fire? What's more, why didn't he tell you about Peter? He woke up months ago, we tried everything to get in touch with you, and I mean we as in, the people at the hospital, my dad, me… and there was nothing. If he's so connected to your family why didn't he step in? Even if he didn't come to us he could have at least called you, or your sister. Let you know your uncle was awake. But he didn't. And he cannot not have known, the whole town knew when Peter woke up!"

"I don't understand…"

"You cannot trust Deaton, Derek. For your own sake."

Stiles had no idea if Derek would even believe him, especially since, like he said, he'd no way to prove it. And yet when Derek sat back down he knew they were on the right path. He still wasn't expecting the next words to come from the young were's mouth:

"Is it my fault?" That part wasn't the surprise, no, that part was just par for the course, as always, Derek blaming himself for things outside his control, his next words though: "I should have stopped her from coming back here, like I did back in January."

Stiles's head moved so fast to the side he almost got whiplash.

"Maybe things would have been better if I did let her come back when she first planned to." The older looking man went on, not even looking at Stiles. "She wanted to come, said she was already late for the hospital visit, but things were so hectic back in November… maybe if she had come back then she'd have seen Peter, seen you. And… whatever happened wouldn't have."

"Why did you stop her?" Stiles couldn't help but ask him, very quietly, as if afraid that any louder would break some sort of spell.

"I… I don't know?" Even he didn't believe that. "I was having dreams, awful dreams. I was so convinced she would die if she came back… and I was right. Only I was also wrong because it had nothing to do with Uncle Peter and… I just don't know what to do."

Stiles said nothing, mind flying every which way as he tried to process what the were just said. What were the chances? Did Derek's nightmares mean anything or were they just a completely unrelated phenomenon that he was connecting because, as was usual for the sourwolf, he was feeling guilty despite there being no reason for it? Stiles could have screamed right then because, in the end, he didn't know what to do either.

He was so sure they were doing things right: their pack was beginning to take shape, even if they weren't wolves, that didn't matter. Peter was awake, and sane, Malia was alright and with them, Scott was healthy (and who cared if he was ignoring Stiles again? He'd long since accepted the loss of his once brother, it no longer hurt as much as it once did), his dad knew the truth and still loved him, Deaton was still around (but there was nothing he could do to draw any more power, he and probably Lydia would deal with him in due time); and yet, he… they hadn't planned for the Argents returning as they did, they should have been able to predict Kate's actions, and Gerard's, and Stiles had no idea how they were supposed to deal with the psychopathic bastard (much as Stiles might want to just go ahead and kill him, he knew the old-man all too well to believe it'd be that easy). All he could do was hope that things would resolve themselves, or he'd find a way to solve them… somehow.

**xXx**

Stiles knew he'd been distracted. In between Derek (who was sleeping on the pull-out couch in his dad's seldom used office, since Noah refused to let him go after the younger wolf admitted not to have anywhere to go… and because they all knew he would have ended staying in the charred ruins of the house, punishing himself for things beyond his power), Gerard Argent's continued insistence on finding other 'people' to blame for his daughter's death (the old bastard even tried claiming that she had been lured to the Stilinski house to be murdered but, thankfully, the people of Beacon Hills knew both the Sheriff and his son and held them in too high esteem to believe the bastard's tales), Deaton's continued silence (really, after how often he tried to get the power when Stiles and Lydia first traveled back, his lack of action implied he was planning something, something big, that couldn't be good) and trying to secure their pack (though neither of them had the slightest idea how they would manage that in the long run, not without an alpha). Being distracted wasn't exactly unexpected. It still caught him completely by surprise when he arrived for lunch one Monday and found someone new sitting at the 'pack's' usual table.

"He… llo?" Stiles somehow managed to make a single word sound like both a statement and a question at the same time (something he probably picked up from Derek, the man always seemed to forget question marks, periods and any other punctuation marks).

"I told Issac he could sit with us from now on." Jackson explained with a shrug. "Since he's family now and all."

It was Lydia who caught him up during their free period, right after lunch. It seemed that Matt Daehler had had some kind of mental breakdown, and with no kanima for him to use, he sought vengeance himself. Probably knowing he wouldn't be able to get more than one, he chose to go directly after the one he saw as the chief responsible for all his pain and suffering: Mr. Lahey, the former swimming coach. No one knew exactly what happened, but the police arrived to find both unconscious and badly injured, Matt dying hours later in the hospital, from a bad reaction to one of the drugs used (the nurses believed that he might have taken something before going after Mr. Lahey, some kind of drug, and no one at the hospital had known…). Mr. Lahey hadn't had more than a few bruises really. However, the arrival of the police brought unexpected results, as one of the deputies had gone into the house to make sure no one else had been injured, only to find Issac inside the old fridge.

From there everything happened very fast. Mostly because Jackson convinced his father to get involved. Mr. Lahey was in jail for abuse to a minor, as well as assault, and there were rumors of possibly adding attempted manslaughter or something along those lines (according to the nurses, if Issac hadn't been found when he was, he might have died). And it hadn't stopped there, at Jackson's insistence the Whittemore's would be fostering Issac until his majority. Stiles was absolutely speechless by the end of it all:

"That was… that's…" He had no words.

Lydia laughed, light and airy, the kind of laughter Stiles hadn't heard in longer than he could properly remember (he'd loved that laughter once, had dreamed of being the reason for it, back when he still believed Lydia to be his soulmate and had a ten-year-plan to make her fall for him).

"That's Jackson." Lydia said simply.

And it wasn't even just Jackson. Stiles had seen it during lunch, the way Erica teased the boy, gently, knowing instinctively he wasn't yet ready for more, the way Boyd kept a watchful eye, making sure others wouldn't bother them, the way Malia smiled at him and did her best to coax him into chatting with them.

"We have an awesome pack." Stiles stated, smiling wide.

"Yeah, we do." Lydia agreed wholeheartedly. "All we're missing is our alpha."

Yeah… and they still had no idea how they were going to get him.

**xXx**

Stiles knew, from the moment Gerard arrived to town that he was going to be trouble. He also knew better than to trust the Argents. Even Allison, while a part of Stiles might still hurt at the huntress's death, at the knowledge that she had been trying to help him and that cost her her life. He also never forgot that Allison could be against them as easily as she was on their side. She was the one who'd captured Boyd and Erica, riddled their bodies with her arrows, handed them over to her grandfather to be tortured for days… then she stabbed Issac with her knives, repeatedly. And there was no way of telling what else might have happened if everything else with Gerard and his attempt at getting the bite hadn't gone down right when it did.

Issac finding out the truth after overhearing a phone conversation between Jackson and Lydia (because apparently the walls in the Whittemore house weren't quite as thick as they thought they were) was unexpected. But at least the 'truth' was only regarding the supernatural, and not the time travel. And while they weren't planning for it to happen exactly when it did, it wasn't like they were expecting to keep the secret forever. It wouldn't have been right, that much Stiles and Lydia had learned in their past. Jackson was even aiming for having Danny join them (it was what the phone conversation was about, in fact), but agreed to wait until the mess with the Argents was past so as not to put the other boy in undue danger.

Of course, with Issac knowing the truth it was only right for Erica and Boyd to know as well. Boyd promised to keep the secret and, as it turned out, he'd noticed a few things already. Erica was very excited about the whole thing, about being a part of it all, even if she was only human. What surprised everyone, especially Stiles himself, was when Erica continued calling him Batman rather than giving him a new nickname, a magical one. In the end it was Issac who asked her to explain why:

"Remember the Batman Begins movie we watched a few weeks ago?" Erica asked in turn.

Everyone nodded (they were all interested in the answer, and thus turned their full attention to her the moment Issac asked the question).

"Well, there Bruce does this whole thing, acting like a playboy, and a fool, so no one will know that he's Batman, right?" Erica was grinning as she explained her line of thought. "Well, that's exactly Stiles! He acts all happy-go-lucky, all oblivious and… and human! When he's not, he's a superhero! Only he pretends to be human so no one will suspect the truth. He's Batman!"

That speech left everyone absolutely speechless, or at least everyone except Stiles, who pretty much jumped on Erica, hugging her tight:

"You're awesome Catwoman!" The mage cried out brightly.

He loved his pack so much… they were all so good, so accepting. Even without being wolves (though Stiles knew that, given the chance, most of them would take the bite), they were pack, they were a family, by choice, and that was so much more important than any blood…

So, the pack finding out the truth (or most of it at least) might have been unexpected, but they dealt with it. A part of Stiles hoped they wouldn't have any more 'unexpected developments'. Not when they still had other things, other people, to deal with.

Which might explain why he really wasn't prepared (mentally or in any other way) when, one Friday evening, Peter came out of the preserve and straight into the Stilinski backyard (there was a fence, but it was low enough for were to jump easily over it). The truly worrying part was that over one shoulder he'd an unconscious Noah, and cradled against his hip was Malia in full-coyote shift, whining pitifully. Stiles had not worried when returning from his weekly lunch with Lydia (only the two of them, it was their private time) and finding the house empty. Friday evenings were for family and Noah had taken to joining Peter and Malia in their stroll through the preserve before returning home to a dinner cooked by Stiles, wanting to be as involved as he could with every part of the lives of those he held dear (Malia was his daughter, almost as much as Peter's and Peter… Stiles didn't know, but he hadn't seen his dad be as close to anyone since the death of his mom, not even when he and Scott had been trying to get their parents together; and Stiles just loved cooking when it was for pack).

Stiles didn't even stop to think about it as he practically dived out of his window, using his magic instinctively to land on one knee on the backyard without injuring himself.

"What happened?!" He asked, absolutely worried.

"Victoria Argent happened." Peter practically snarled.

Stiles froze, just for a moment, but still. He didn't understand! Scott was dating Allison, yes, but he wasn't a werewolf! He didn't even have anything to do with the pack! So why did Victoria attack? Of course, the answer came almost faster than the question. It was Gerard, the freaking bastard was doing his best to ruin their lives, again. Cursing at himself for not even thinking to prevent something like that from happening, Stiles rushed to the shielded part of his little 'herb garden'. He knew exactly the kind of wolfsbane the Argents favored. So he took a bit of that and began working on the best way to help Malia and Peter both. Thankfully, as Peter explained, Noah had just been knocked out, he'd have a headache upon awakening but a bit of ibuprofen would be enough for that.

Stiles was so completely focused on the groaning Malia and slowly awakening Noah he didn't pay that much attention to Peter after the were assured him he was alright and aside from a slight graze to his upper left arm (which didn't even need to be treated because the bullet hadn't penetrated anything and thanks to wolf-healing was already half-healed by the time Peter got back to the house) he was just fine; that was probably how he managed to completely miss the traces of blood on the side of his mouth…

Stiles spent most of Saturday and Sunday enchanting several objects to help protect his family. Lydia was a witch and a banshee, which allowed her to be quite safe. But, Stiles decided, he'd been remiss with regards to everyone else. Since it needed to be something that allowed for skin contact, and something that wouldn't be taken off… in the end he went with enchanted jewelry, sort-of. He made medallions out of a mix of silver and iron. And just that took a fair bit of magic, because those two metals couldn't really be blended by any remotely natural means, only by magic. But Stiles needed the protective and enduring properties of iron, and the connection to the moon that the silver had (even if most of them weren't wolves). Then he engraved each medallion with the two symbols that connected their pack: the Hale triskele on one side and the Irish triquetra on the other. He used magic in every step of the process, from the blending of the two metals to the delicate carvings, all the while focusing on thoughts of love, family, protection… When learning what he was doing Peter offered him unused pieces of tanned leather from the Hale family vault.

One of his brothers had been in the business and chose to save the very best piece of leather he ever worked, intending to one day turn it into a gift for his wife. He never got the chance, but Peter decided he'd agree that protecting the pack was a good reason for using that leather. He and Stiles also knew that the feelings Robert had had while working on the leather would only help. So Peter cut strips from it and made it into braids (as they'd be more resistant than a single strip). Some long, some short. Each member of the pact would be given a choice of length so they might then wear the medallion either around their neck, wrist, or anything else, as long as it might be in direct contact to skin.

A quick message sent early Monday morning ensured that they all would be at the corner of the school parking-lot by the time he arrived. He gave his dad, Peter and Malia their medallions during breakfast, extracting promises from each of them to never take them off (they'd been spelled so no one but them would be able to take them off, and only if it was of their own free will, no coercion and no witchcraft involved).

Everyone loved them. Though from all Lydia was the only one to understand the enormity of what Stiles had done. Not just when it came to how strong the medallions were, or the mix of metal, but the fact that enchanted jewelry of any kind, particularly one that had more than one or two spells, usually required time. A lot of time. From weeks, to a month, perhaps even longer. And Stiles had done ten of them in just two days. And they still didn't know about the mercury-inlaid triquetra tattoo on the back of his shoulder, opposite from the mountain-ash-inlaid triskele, both because he liked the symmetry and because, just like the mountain-ash helped when dealing with weres, the mercury was meant to help with magic (of course the mercury had been heavily enchanted to ensure it wouldn't slowly poison him or anything, it was a most magical metal, very malleable, though most magic-users had a hard time putting it to use for the exact same reason… which was probably why it was perfect for Stiles).

Stiles got yet another surprise when Lydia pulled him into an out-of-the-way nook right as the first-bell rang.

"Lyd…" He began, confused.

"Victoria Argent is dead." Lydia dropped the bomb straight out.

"Wha… what?!" Stiles had definitely not seen that one coming, regardless of what might have happened in the past. "How…? Why?! How do you even know?"

"The burial was yesterday and mom decided we should go since, well, the Argents are 'important members of the community', and it would be 'unseemly and impolite' for us not to present our condolences." The air-quotes were extremely clear. "How, suicide. And the why, that's what I'm asking you."

"She tried to kill dad, Peter and Malia on Friday evening, while they were hiking through the preserve, as they do every week." Stiles nodded. "Peter didn't tell me he bit her, but it wouldn't surprise me, considering both my dad and sis ended unconscious, and with Peter holding them… he would have used any means to protect himself and them."

"I would never begrudge him, or you, that." Lydia nodded calmly. "But biting or not, the truth remains that Peter is not an alpha. Aside from the chance of the bite getting infected if not treated promptly, there's nothing it could have done to her…"

They both reached the same conclusion at the same time.

"Son of a bitch." Stiles cursed, at the same time Lydia did a bit of the same, except in Latin.

"Mr Stilinski, Ms. Martin, the second bell just rang." A low, grandfatherly voice just announced.

It took every ounce of will, every trick learned while training his magic, for Stiles to not spin around and throw his strongest magical attack at the bastard that called himself a principal. Thankfully Lydia was quick enough to notice how thin and strained his control was and took control of the situation, taking hold of Stiles's arm and pushing at him, as she inserted herself in between both males swiftly.

"Of course, we'll be going to class right now Mr. Argent." Lydia nodded, carefully not meeting the old man's eyes (not wanting him to see the darkness and power in them).

There was no doubt in their minds that the man knew at least Stiles was connected to the weres. It was no secret that Malia was his adopted sister, or that Peter had moved into the Stilinski home after leaving the hospital. He might even suspect that Derek was staying there too, but they just weren't ready to move against the man, not yet. Not until they were sure that doing so wouldn't kick-start a war against the hunter community as a whole. And yet, the fact that the man might have murdered his own daughter-in-law for no reason except the chance of using her death to move against them… they always knew he was insane, but that was just too much.

"We need to make a plan." Lydia hissed at Stiles right as they reached the classroom door.

"We need to make a lot of plans." Stiles corrected softly. "Something tells me we're about to run out of time."

Which was ironic all things considered, but Lydia knew Stiles was right. They'd been caught completely off-guard, more than once already, it couldn't be allowed to happen again.

**xXx**

The lacrosse final had everyone at the high-school going insane. Even Stiles would admit to be having more fun than the first time around. It wasn't just that Jackson convinced him to join the team, or that he had a good-enough physical condition this time around to be a first-liner, not even that he was Jackson's second and the one who planned all their plays. He and Jackson were really good at working together, because the blonde had what it took to get the rest of the players to follow his orders, and to motivate them, while Stiles had the mind of a tactician, and was able to use it not just in battle, but also in something as simple as a high-school game. Scott was part of the team too, he even played a little most games; but while being cured of his asthma being he could play without danger, he didn't have the connection and the understanding of the rest of the team, of their captain and tactician to follow them the way others like Danny, Issac, Connor and most of the others, even Greenburg (and where he failed, it was mostly due to his own lack of coordination and endurance, rather than anything else).

"This is insane." Lydia practically spat as he watched everyone arriving to watch the game.

Of course she was there. She was the girlfriend to the team-captain and best-friend of the 2nd, she couldn't not be there. Malia was with her as, while she was interested in playing the game, there were no girls in the team and she wasn't about to ask Principal Argent for permission (maybe once they got rid of the bastard and someone else took the position).

"This is high-school lacrosse, and the first time the Cyclones have made the finals since… well, probably forever." Stiles deadpanned. "I don't remember exactly, I'm sure Finstock went into it during the last training session, but to be honest I wasn't paying that much attention."

"And he didn't mind?" Malia arched a brow.

"As long as I create awesome plays that allow him to win the championship no, he doesn't mind at all." Stiles answered with a smirk.

"Erica and Boyd are late." Lydia commented.

Noah and Peter were already on the bleachers, saving the girls a couple of seats. But Erica and Boyd weren't there yet.

Stiles closed his eyes briefly, checking on the pack-bonds, just lightly, superficially, not enough to be nosy, but just to make sure they were alright.

"There's nothing wrong with them." He announced out-loud.

"They probably just lost track of time making out or something." Malia snickered.

Stiles didn't get a chance to say anything else because Finstock was calling for him. It was time for his 'Independence Day' speech and for the game to begin.

They won. The part that left Stiles satisfied was that this time it was a well-planned victory, rather than a completely accidental one. He even managed to score once! Jackson passing the ball at him instead of taking a shot, even though he was free. Stiles took the opportunity on offer for what it was though and made the best shot he could. It was his only in the game, and barely his third in the whole season, but he wasn't in the team because he was a scorer, but because he was a tactician. He could go the whole season without playing as long as he made the plans and warmed-up with everyone else and coach would be happy.

There was a lot of cheering and congratulations as the trophy was handed to the captain, Jackson immediately pulled Stiles, making sure they were both holding the trophy up as everyone around them cheered as loud as they could. It was the perfect moment.

Coach invited them all to go out for burgers or pizza, or something; but truth was that most of the players had families that wanted to celebrate with them, and no one really wanted to spend the next two hours, or more, listening to more of Finstocks crazy speeches. He might be a good man, but still a bit too insane (and batshit crazy) for most of them.

Jackson, Issac and Stiles were the last to get showered and out of the lockers, backpacks in hand. They were planning on all going for some burgers and fries. The Whittemores weren't in town, having some business dinner in Sacramento, Peter insisted on inviting, so they'd all be going together. They'd just stepped onto the parking lot when the shock hit Stiles, like lightning or… or like being tased… he lost his footing and would have ended smacked-dab against the concrete if Peter had not reacted as fast as he did, catching the teenager half down.

"Stiles, what's wrong?!" Malia asked, very worried.

"Erica… and Boyd… they're hurting…" Stiles groaned as he forced his mind into order, pushing the pain into a corner in order to gather his wits. "Fucking bastard… I'm going to kill him!"

"What… who?!" Issac, Jackson and Malia were all clearly baffled.

"Gerard…" Stiles practically snarled.

He was so furious he didn't even think, he just reached out with his magic and from one second to the next, he was gone.

"Shit!" Several called at the same time.

"Where's my son?!" Noah demanded, furious.

"Wherever Erica and Boyd are." Lydia answered grimly.

"And where is that?" Peter demanded through gritted teeth.

"If I had to guess…" And Lydia really hated guessing. "The Argent place."

They all got on the move immediately, climbing onto the cars and rushing out, Jackson and Lydia on the lead as she was the only one who actually knew where the Argents lived.

Stiles was so furious his magic answered without him having to even think too hard. It was how he ended appearing at the Argents' front door where, with a wave of his hand the door slammed open hard enough that the pieces of decorated crystal on it shattered.

"Hey!" A male voice called. "What the hell is going on?!"

The moment Stiles laid eyes on Gerard Argent his magic reacted again and the old man went flying across the dining room until he slammed against the far wall, the pictures hanging on both sides of him falling by the force of the impact.

"Who are you and why are you attacking us?!" Chris Argent demanded, gun in hand.

Stiles coked his head to a side, not saying a word as the gun went hot, so hot that Argent was forced to drop it eventually.

"Where are they?" He finally asked.

"Who?!" Chris demanded, it was obvious a part of him wanted to reach for another weapon, but what had already happened with the gun made him hesitate.

"Erica and Boyd, where are they?" Stiles pressed. "I know you have them."

"Why would I…?" Chris began, clearly flabbergasted.

"Not you, him." Stiles hissed the last words, eyes straying to the unconscious old-man just for a second. "Don't bother lying to me Argent, I know exactly what you do, what you are. I know you have my friends…"

"We don't hurt humans…" Chris began.

Stiles silently reminded himself that Chris was not his enemy, was probably the only decent Argent on the US (certainly the only to always follow the code). Also, they were back to a time where Chris wasn't yet aware of the crimes his father and sister had committed, all the ways they both had perverted the code, the innocents they'd hurt and killed…

So Stiles ignored him. He still remembered the layout of the house from the last time he was a 'guest' there, didn't matter if it was in another lifetime. So he turned and went straight for the door leading into the basement, ignoring Chris's sputtering, calls and demands. The hunter followed him, though by the time he got halfway down the stairs Stiles was already all the way down, his magic acting instinctively to release Erica and Boyd from their bonds. Stiles turned to look at Chris over his shoulder and saw the man looking absolutely flabbergasted:

"I… I didn't know about any of this…" Chris murmured, sounding absolutely gutted.

"Just like you didn't know that your wife tried to kill my father, my sister, and Uncle Peter less than a month ago?" Stiles demanded.

"That monster you call an uncle bit my wife!" Chris snapped, slowly recovering some of his righteous anger.

"So what?!" Stiles retorted, turning back to him, after having made sure that Erica and Boyd were alive and putting his magic to work on healing them as much and as fast as possible. "Peter's a beta, it's not like his bite did anything to her!"

"But… but… she killed herself…" The man sounded suddenly so lost.

"Did she?" Stiles challenged, teeth bared. "Did she talk to you about it? Did you see her? Or was that the story your father told you to get you and possibly even your daughter to turn on innocent wolves who barely managed to survive when your sister tried to kill them?!"

"Sister… what…?!"

"Kate tried to kill us all a few months ago, that's no secret. It's also no secret that she was behind the Hale fire. That fire killed eight people, several of them children! The Hale pack had done nothing to deserve such an attack! And then your wife tried the same against my family. Why? Because they're shifters. Well, guess what, the days of you hunters getting away with killing innocents just because they're not fully human are over. You come after my family, my pack again, and I will destroy you. Every single one of you."

The moment Stiles heard Gerard's yell coming from above, Stiles reacted, again, on instinct, as he took hold of both Erika and Boyd and teleported all three of them out of that basement. He landed in a small park just a few blocks away from the house, at about the same time as a certain Porsche took the curve, fast, only to stop two seconds later and turn back, Lydia having probably tracked Stiles's magic. She was just jumping out of the car when the rest of their mismatched pack arrived on Stiles's own jeep and Lydia's blue Prius.

Stiles sat on his heels, panting, so much magic, in such a short period of time… he might be extremely powerful, but his younger body wasn't used to that sort of exertion. Also, as he realized while healing Erica and Boyd, their medallions had been slowly drawing on his power for a while, it was probably the only reason why they were still alive, despite having been subjected to Gerard's 'tender' mercies.

"Stiles!" Lydia cried out as she went to kneel beside him.

"I am… we will be alright." Stiles corrected himself halfway through the statement, then he turned more serious. "We're all sleeping at home, my home, until this matter is resolved."

Lydia knew exactly what it meant: 'until Gerard Argent is dead'; she had no doubt Stiles would be going after him as soon as he recovered from that night. Probably before the weekend was over. And she'd be right there with him.

**xXx**

Stiles slept through the night, and most of the morning. Thankfully his dad had gotten up in time to help make some brunch for everyone; and they all made sure to leave something for Stiles, which made him very happy. The pack spent the whole day together, camped out on a bunch of blankets and pillows in the middle of the living-room, on a Batman marathon (they watched all three of the Nolan movies, Stiles's and Erica's favorite version of the superhero).

In the evening Stiles took charge of the kitchen, throwing things together in a simple but very tasty stir-fry everyone loved. Boyd surprised everyone by preparing chocolate brownies, his grandma had taught him.

The plan was to wait for the next day before going after Gerard Argent, and any hunters he might be able to command. Then again, Stiles should have remembered that plans rarely went as expected when they were involved… They were all arguing about what movie they should put in, having finished dinner (Issac and Cora were just finishing drying the dishes); Stiles turned to offer his own suggestion (later on he'd be unable to remember what it had been, exactly), when a sudden, sharp pain went through his whole body, he dropped to one knee before he could stop himself, a half-cry escaping his lips.

"Stiles!" Everyone rushed to his side instantly.

"Derek…" Stiles gasped, holding onto his left arm with his right tightly. "Fucking Gerard!"

"What… what do we do?" Issac asked, terrified.

He'd seen the condition Erica and Boyd were in after being taken by the old Argent, they all had. Erica herself was shaking in fright just at hearing him mentioned, while Boyd stood protectively behind her, a hand on her shoulder.

"Map…" Stiles forced the words through clenched teeth. "Need… map…"

Noah was on the move right away, pulling out the biggest, most detailed map they had from an old desk in a corner of the room and spreading it out on the recently emptied dinning room table (really, before the pack they hadn't used the dining room at all, having what meals they actually took in the house on the small island in the kitchen).

"Lyds…" Stiles murmured.

She understood what he needed without any explanation and pulled out the delicate knife, completely made of bleached white bone, with a delicate lily engraved on the handle and no guard (a birthday present from Stiles, and perfect for magic). Stiles took it and used it to make a small cut on his hand, letting just a few drops of blood fall from it and straight onto the map. He didn't even need any spells, only his thoughts, his will, there was a flash of light only those magically inclined could actually see and the blood pulled together and began moving across the map (like mercury) before gathering together on a specific location: a warehouse in the industrial area of Beacon Hills, on its very edge in fact, it was practically in the preserve itself.

"He's there." Stiles announced.

The cut on his hand healed without him even noticing. Peter approached in an attempt to take the pain from him, any pain he might be feeling but Stiles shook his head, he knew there was no point, it would achieve nothing. It wasn't his pain, after all.

As it became clear that the time had come to fight everyone split up to get ready. Noah pulled out his bullet-proof vest along with a couple of spares that (not) coincidentally fit Peter and Malia. He hated the idea of taking his daughter, any of the children really, into a fight, a war, against hunters who clearly had no qualms about hurting innocents, but at the same time knew there was nothing he could do about it, not when they were the best qualified to deal with the problem. Didn't mean he was going to stay behind though.

They decided to take Jackson's and Stiles's cars as they were the fastest (Stiles had long since made sure to boost his jeep with magic, for both speed and protection). Jackson and the sheriff would be driving, though Jackson was given strict instructions about staying with the vehicles. He wasn't a supernatural creature but human and couldn't be expected to fight hunters. Lydia had pulled her long dark-leather jacket from her car, spelled to act almost like body-armor, with several pockets, both obvious and not so much, spelled to connect with caches Lydia keeps on her room of various potions (from liquid fire and explosives, to various poisons, paralytics, etc.), that's her real arsenal. Stiles for his part donned his own black-leather jacket. Much as he might love his red hoodie, and all the jokes that came with it, the jacket was what he wore when he was actually serious. It had the same spells as Lydia's own, both the protective, and the access to caches, only his were mostly of weapons, and some herbs.

Lydia approached Stiles as they waited for the others to be ready. Malia didn't want the vest, until both fathers agreed it was the only way they were letting her go with them. Also, Noah had a rifle and a couple of handguns for himself, and a handgun which he handed to Stiles, all with ammo spelled to get through any kind of protection the hunters might have.

"Since when have you been bonded to Derek?" Lydia asked bluntly, though quiet enough not to be heard by Peter (she also raised a slight privacy spell before saying a word).

"I… wha…? I don't…" Stiles sputtered briefly before taking a deep breath, knowing it was pointless to try and lie to Lydia. "I don't know. I first noticed it the day he fought Peter, when they argued about Laura's death. Afterwards… we talked on the back porch and I kept feeling this tugging. I wasn't sure… no, I didn't want to be sure because… I mean, really, my life is insane enough already, I don't need this above everything else!"

"I don't think you're getting a choice in this Stiles." Lydia pointed out with a small smile.

"What else is new?" Stiles snarked with no little amount of sarcasm.

Thankfully he was saved from having to continue that conversation by the arrival of everyone else. Bulletproof vests under jackets and guns ready. Peter had no guns, but he didn't need them either (he also claimed not to need the vest but Noah threatened to sedate him and leave him behind while they went after Derek if he didn't wear it, and Peter knew better than to try him). Issac, Erica and Boyd promised to stay inside the house, and call if they saw or heard anything suspicious (though Stiles and Lydia were sure the wards should protect them from pretty much anything short of the end of the world).

It took no time for them all to get to the warehouse. Stiles was getting ready to use magic to call the hunters' attention when his dad pulled out a couple of smoke bombs. Not quite the quality of the smoke grenades used by the force, but certainly cheaper, and less easy to track. He handed them over to Peter, who used his were strength to throw them through a high window.

"Save your magic for when you really need it son." Noah said with a small smile. "And let us help. That's what we're here for."

Stiles nodded. Grateful. They all heard the big metal curtains on the opposite side of the warehouse open and people rushing out. Took it as a signal to slip into the warehouse through the smaller backdoor they'd parked near.

"If they come around, make sure you're not seen." Noah warned Jackson before handing him a taser for his own protection.

Not as good as a gun, but as he couldn't know if the teenager had any knowledge of guns, he wasn't about to hand one to him. Jackson was thankful for the means to protect himself, just in case and nodded.

Inside Derek was hanging from the rafts, chains around the length of his arms, so high his toes were barely grazing the ground. If he were to stay like that much longer there was no doubt his arms would dislocate, also, he was already having trouble breathing.

"We need to find a way to get him down…" Noah began, trying to remain objective.

"Peter, catch him." Stiles ordered, before using his magic to levitate just a bit and wrap a hand around the chain which turned to dust under his hand.

Peter moved just in time, catching his nephew before he could touch the ground, then laying him down on the floor.

"He was shot." Stiles reminded everyone as he dropped to his knees on Derek's side.

In seconds he pulled some wolfsbane from one of the spelled pockets of his jacket. He didn't even need a lighter, as his magic was enough. The pain of the burnt wolfsbane was enough to wake up Derek.

"How did this even happen?" Malia demanded strongly.

"I… I was stupid…" Derek admitted as he began recovering. "Went to see Deaton." He looked at Stiles apologetically. "I didn't tell him anything about you, or about your pack. I went to ask him about Laura, if he'd seen her, what he knew… he claimed not to have seen her at all… and I know that was a lie, though it didn't register as such to my senses…"

"If he told you that he didn't see her in a certain place, or a certain day, or whatever other detail, it wouldn't technically be a lie." Stiles explained, it was the same thing he did sometimes. "It's not exactly hard, lying to werewolves, when you know what you're doing."

Kate had probably done the same thing, and Stiles really, really hated having anything in common with the bitch but it just couldn't be helped.

"I was just leaving and then… I don't know, that's pretty much the last thing I remember before waking up here, to Gerard demanding to know who my Alpha was…" Derek cut off as his arm finished healing and he was finally able to sit up. "Didn't matter how many times I told him I don't have an alpha, he wouldn't believe me."

Of course he wouldn't, because that wasn't the answer he wanted. Gerard was really bad at accepting answers he did not want. Made him wonder how a man who feared death so much, who was insane enough to want to be the very thing he hunted in order not to die, ever got involved in a life-style where death was practically guaranteed, sooner or later. Of course ego played a part. Feeling that you had power over life and death, that you were invincible… but Stiles remembered a talk with Allison, how she told him all hunters knew their lives were fragile, and short, and they were meant to ensure others lived better lives. She was so brave, even in the face of her own death, so different from Gerard and Kate both (really, choosing to live as a were-jaguar rather than accepting death? It showed that Kate was as psychotic and cowardly as her father).

"Now what?" Malia asked.

Stiles knew that they'd all be debating between going after the hunters, and taking Derek home, to safety. The choice was taken out of their hands to the sound of shooting, followed by the screeching of tires as a car took off (clearly Jackson was forced to leave). The door they had entered through began opening and Lydia reacted automatically, pulling one of her explosive potions out and throwing it. The boom, followed by screams told them she'd hit the mark. With no other way out they all turned towards the rest of the warehouse, and the open curtains on the far end. At least Derek had mostly recovered by then. He was a bit tired, and very hungry, but both would be solved as soon as they all got back home.

That plan though proved to be a tad problematic when they stepped out of the warehouse, only to find themselves face to face with hunters.

It's the last thing Stiles ever wanted. Yes, he planned going after Gerard. But his plan consisted of slipping into wherever he might be and killing the man before he ever saw Stiles coming. Many would call such a plan cowardly, but Stiles knows better than to go after a man like Gerard Argent up front, the bastard is slimy and psychotic, there's nothing he won't do, no line he won't cross. Something that is proven true right then, and in possibly the most painful manner Stiles could have ever imagined. Because, if the tense stand-off just outside the warehouse isn't bad enough in and of itself; pack vs. hunters isn't exactly surprising, and of course Stiles is standing with his pack; the part that truly hurts is seeing Scott, his once brother, standing with the hunters.

"St… Stiles…?" Scott's beyond shocked.

Stiles is incredibly shocked as well, seeing Allison there is par for the course, really, but Scott? And even if his hold on the crossbow slackened in the shock of seeing his once best friend, he's still standing there, among about a dozen hunters. Stiles thought he was ready for anything, he thought he'd already gone through any and all pain Scott could cause him… he was wrong. In that moment there's so much pain radiating from him, he's sure everyone in the pack can sense it (nevermind that the weres can smell it).

Stiles takes a moment, just a fraction of a second, to let his heart and soul cry, to mourn, again, the loss of the boy he once called his brother, once loved as dearly as if they'd been born as such. Then he locked all that away, steeled his resolve and pulled out his gun with one hand, at the same time as he felt the mercury sliding down his other arm, leaving a trail of magic that raised goosebumps on his skin.

"Well well, what have we here?" Gerard Argent says in a drawl, an undercurrent of darkness in his every word (not surprising, really). "Mr. Stilinski, it seems you've been keeping some very big secrets… and you Sheriff!"

Noah says nothing, he just holds his rifle more tightly, lining his shot.

"Ah, ah, ah." Gerard shakes his head with almost manic glee. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, my good Sheriff. Not unless you want to be responsible for the death of an innocent…"

No one says a word, but Stiles suddenly has a very bad feeling.

Which is proven right just a few seconds later when Four more hunters join them, pulling none other than Jackson with them. Jackson is cursing them all, English mixed with some French and Latin (he clearly has been learning from Lydia), but its clear he's taken a beating and one of his knees is wrenched, or worse.

It takes all of Lydia's self-control not to scream, but she knows that will only make things worse. So she holds back, though at the same time she's clenching both hands, practically vibrating in her spot, waiting for the right time to scream.

"Now, this is how it's going to go." Gerard murmurs with evident satisfaction as he raises his own gun. "You're all going to die."

"Don't you dare give up!" Jackson snarls.

It takes everyone, on both sides, completely by surprise when the taser Noah gave him earlier slips down from the sleeve of his jacket and into his hand, he then jabs it straight into one of the hunters on one side of him, while at the same time putting his whole weight on the one on the other side, taking him down.

That's all Lydia needs as she raises both hands at the same time she opens her mouth wide and screams at a pitch no human throat could reach. The two hunters behind Jackson collapse, their ears bleeding, and a few others shift their stances as they do their best to cover their ears from the noise. Noah, Peter and Stiles take that as a sign and begin shooting. Stiles himself raising both arms, as he shoots with one, while the mercury shoots from the sleeve on the other one, taking the form of projectiles that hit Allison and Scott. He doesn't want to kill them, much as he might hate hunters, he wants to believe there's still hope…

When several of the hunters decide that they no longer like the odds and try to run, Malia and Derek get in on the action, shifting into beta form and going after them. They aren't too careful, but still aren't aiming to kill. Eventually Peter drops his own hand-gun and follows.

Gerard is furious, beyond that even. It's clear he wasn't expecting that, for them to fight back. Which Stiles thinks is monumentally stupid, they killed Kate, after all.

Eventually one of the bullets hits Gerard straight on the chest. He goes down hard. To Allison's screams and Scott's cursing. Stiles made sure to hit them in such a way they wouldn't be able to keep fighting, but they're still awake and aware.

Stiles takes a look around, and then exhales when confirming that all the hunters are down for the count, and most aren't even dead! It is then that Stiles, and his whole pack, make the worst mistake anyone can make: they lower their guard.

Allison is on the ground, shaking, eyes straight on her broken bow even as she holds tightly onto her boyfriend's uninjured hand. When her grandpa told her the truth about the 'family business' she was both terrified and excited at the same time. The idea of monsters made her afraid, but at the same time she loved to think that she could fight them, that she could protect those who did not know the truth. And when grandpa told her she could invite her boyfriend things got even better. Because she could share it all with Scott! They'd be together, would fight to protect innocents. They would be heroes! And then things turned sour. She can see Derek Hale standing at the back of the group, he doesn't look like a monster, his jeans are ripped in so many places they look like they might fall into pieces at any moment, there's no shirt on him and his chest is littered with pink scars and still-healing cuts. He doesn't look like a monster, no, he looks like a man, a young, handsome man who's been terribly hurt.

Scott himself isn't shaking, but he's almost petrified with fright. He wanted so much to be a hero. It was so hard for him not to go looking for Stiles, to tell him when he passed his first week training with the Argents and Gerard told him he had a future as a hunter… Then he'd remember Stiles the night of the Winter Formal, his words, and a petty and childish desire would invade him. If Stiles could keep his secrets why couldn't Scott do the same? Of course he'd tell his best-friend eventually, and maybe Stiles might even be interested in being a hunter too. And the two of them would be together, like brothers, like they were supposed to be. Scott would have Allison, and Stiles, and all would be right with the world again. Of course, when thinking all that he never imagined a day like tonight. It was one thing to be told they were meant to hunt monsters, but the ones standing across from them were no monsters, or were they? Stiles, the Sheriff… Noah Stilinski was like another father to Scott, had been even before his old man finally left. Why would he be siding with monsters? Scott doesn't understand what's going on anymore…

Lydia's beside Jackson, seeing to his knee as best she can. Potions might be her thing, but healing really isn't. So while she can give her boyfriend something for the pain, and check his knee to make sure it's not actually broken, that's the extent of her skill on that front. Jackson understands, he's just grateful that she's alright, that him being taken didn't somehow end up with her hurt, he'd have never forgiven him for that.

Stiles is taking deep breaths, feeling the mercury return to his tattoo. He can hear Peter muttering behind him, all the reasons why they're being stupid, how they should just kill the hunters while they're still unconscious, how foolish it is to leave enemies alive… the worst is that there's a part of Stiles that believes he's right. The hunters… they may come after them all. And then there's the part that remembers Tamora Monroe, not the insane bitch that was, in many ways, the reason the world went to hell; but the woman she had been before all that. The counselor who cared so much, who just wanted to help. She, like Meredith Walker, went through terribly traumatic experiences that lead her to believe that the supernatural was at the core of all the problems, of all the evil in their town, and possibly in the world. Wouldn't it be better to show such people, people like Tamora, like Meredith, like the hunters all around the clearing, that they aren't monsters, that they aren't evil, instead of seemingly confirming all their fears?

"Stiles!" Noah snaps out suddenly.

Stiles is so completely surprised he spins around to see what the problem is, but his dad isn't looking at him, no, his eyes are fixed on something behind him… the shot rings out, so loud it makes all who hear it flinch, before he can even move again. When he finally does, it's in time to see a most shocking sight… Jackson, dropping to the ground, hands pressed to his stomach and to the bleeding wound there.

"Jackson!" Lydia screams, terrified

It's not surprising really, that's the love of her life bleeding out on the dirt. Stiles is on his knees beside him, trying to use his bare hands to apply some pressure, he's so shocked by it all that it's like he cannot think…

"Idiot, why did you do that?!" He snaps, not knowing what else to say.

"You're… you're Ly… Lydia's b-brother, ho-ow could I not?" Jackson mumbles, his face twisting in a grimace of pain.

It's one thing to use his magic to boost a were's naturally augmented healing, or for healing potions… but Stiles isn't actually a healer. He's a mage with incredible power but healing is still the hardest, most complex, most delicate form of magic. Very few people can heal a human without ending shortening their lives… and Stiles isn't one of them. And he has no healing potions good enough for a bullet to the stomach! Not on him, not even back at the house. Because they were ready for many things, but somehow they weren't ready for that.

"Monsters!" Gerard calls with manic glee. "I'll kill you all one by one!"

Stiles curses to himself. It never occurred to him to consider that, like his dad, Malia and Peter, the bastard might have been wearing a vest. He waits until Lydia is there, tearing at the lower half of the dress she's wearing over leggings and underneath her jacket to use that to put pressure on her boyfriend's wound. That gives Stiles the chance to turn his whole attention to Gerard, whose gun is already pointing straight at Stiles, as if challenging him, waiting to see who of the two is faster with their attack… only when the shot comes, it's not from Gerard, instead he's the one falling, the bullet going into his head not from the front, but from behind…

All eyes turn to the newcomer then, though Allison's the first to react:

"Dad!" She's so absolutely relieved, and at the same time extremely confused, why did her dad just kill his own father?!

"Hello Chris." Stiles says almost conversationally. "Remember what I said would happen if you came after my family, my pack, again?"

"I had no part in what happened today." Chris tries to defend himself. "What my father did was wrong, and now he's gone. And my daughter and her boyfriend… they're innocent, they don't know what they're doing."

"You dealt with your father, though only after letting him get away with too much, for too long, just like Kate." Stiles chastises. "Have you looked into what I told you regarding your wife?"

"Mom?!" Allison cries out, unable to help herself.

She has no idea what's going on. Where does Stilinski get off, talking to her dad like that? And her dad is allowing it! And now they're talking about her mom! Her mom died because of Peter Hale, because of werewolves, monsters… didn't she?

"She didn't write the suicide note." Chris nods. "I took it to an expert I know, along with notes I know she wrote. He told me it wasn't the same handwriting. I had suspected as much. I failed to notice it at first because I was so overcome by everything, but there are things Vicky always said when she called me, specific words and turns of phrase she'd use in notes, personal codes we developed among ourselves, as a form of protection. In case one of us was ever taken, or coerced or anything else. None of those were in the suicide note. Which means she didn't write it."

"There's also of course the fact that Peter Hale is not an Alpha." Stiles reminds him. "Therefore, whether he bit or not your wife is irrelevant, the bite would have done nothing to her."

"I know." Chris lowers his head, sadly.

"I don't think you're a bad man Christopher." Stiles admits calmly. "If I thought you were, you would be dead." Cold, but true. "You may not be a bad man, but you've been remiss in your duties. Because I do not believe you didn't at least suspect that there was something wrong with the way your father and sister conducted themselves, all the wolves they killed. I will not mention your wife again, because I do understand how mourning someone might blind you to details. But in your grief over losing your wife, you let your daughter be manipulated by a monster. Let her and her boyfriend both go down a path you had to know wasn't the right one. If I were any other person, if this were any other pack, all who stood against us tonight would be lying dead at our feet right now, rather than just unconscious, you do understand that, don't you?"

Doing that would have undoubtedly sparked the very war they were seeking to prevent, but Stiles won't go into that. He needs Chris to understand and do something about it. The Allison before him hasn't fallen quite as far as the one in the old timeline, she hasn't tortured or killed anyone yet, didn't fire a single shot before Stiles snapped her bow. That might be because Scott is with her, has been her support, or it might be something else entirely. But that doesn't mean she won't end that bad, or worse, Chris needs to step in before it happens.

Scott's just gaping. He knows Stiles and he aren't as close as they used to be, but that's just a phase right? Things will get better, right? Only Stiles is treating him like a complete stranger, won't even look at him. It's driving Scott crazy and yet… the way he's staring down Mr. Argent… Scott really doesn't want that look directed at him.

"I will make sure something like this never happens again." Chris promises solemnly. "I will teach them better. Both Allison and Scott."

Because Scott is his responsibility now too. Just for what happened tonight, the supernatural community will regard him as a hunter from today on. Chris has already failed his wife, and his daughter to a point, he won't fail them anymore.

"You may go, but your friends will be going straight to lock-up." Noah announces gruffly.

"On what charges?" Chris dares ask.

"Illegal possession of firearms, hunting out of season, shooting at some joggers?" Noah throws some suggestions into the air. "I don't know, I'll think of something. They probably won't get much more than a few days behind bars and a fine, but hear me when I say this Mr. Argent. The days of you hunters making yourselves judge, jury and executioners simply because you think you know best, are over. I am the sheriff of this town, which means I am the law. I have no intention of making myself jury and executioner, but I will ensure the laws are followed, by all, human and supernatural alike. If I find you, your family, or any of your friends breaking laws, have no doubt I will be coming after you. And 'not being human' is not a good excuse for committing a crime, on anyone at all!"

"What if we're hunting an Omega threatening humans?" Chris demands.

"I think we both know what is and isn't a good reason to act." Noah rolls his eye. "Like how I wouldn't shoot a guy simply for being a jackass, though I certainly would if that same person threatened an innocent life!"

Stiles could laugh right then, he would if the moment weren't so tense (from the corner of his eye he can see Peter smirking).

Chris says nothing more, he just helps Scott and Allison to their feet and guides them away.

"We need to get an ambulance!" Malia reminds everyone abruptly.

Noah's pulling out his cellphone, even as Derek drops beside Jackson, on the other side from Lydia. He grimaces when seeing how bad it is.

"He won't make it." Peter murmurs, the look on his nephew confirming what he suspected.

He can hear the boy's heart slowing down, he's losing too much blood, too fast. Even if the ambulance were already on its way, they won't make it, Jackson won't make it…

"Stiles, what do you know about the Acclamation?" Peter asks abruptly.

"Acclamation, like a voice vote, or cheering?" Stiles asks in turn. "Or like the Papal elections?"

Yes, because Stiles can always be counted on to know all sorts of random, useless trivia.

"A bit of all, I suppose." Peter shrugs. "Most alphas get their power either by inheriting it, or by taking it, when they kill another alpha. It is said that there is another way to become an alpha. One that is decided not by the alpha wolf, but by their pack. It is said that a pack can elevate one of their own into alpha by believing they already are one hard enough that… well, the power is granted. Some even say those are True Alphas, because they earned the power, because they were elevated into the rank, rather than just getting it or killing for it."

"True Alphas…?" Stiles has no idea what to say about that.

For so long Stiles has believed the whole 'true alpha' shtick to be nothing more than bullshit. And a part of his brain whispers it might still be though… it might also be true. And he would rather believe that. He'd rather believe that it's true, that Jackson still has a chance, than give up entirely. And isn't his magic all about belief?

"So you expect us to elevate you?" Lydia asked, an undertone of desperation in her voice as she speaks through clenched teeth.

Stiles's eyes widen in alarm as he understands what's going on… Lydia's holding back a scream… that's not good!

"I think we all know who's meant to be alpha." Peter says in a drawl, a most provocative smirk adorning his face.

Yes, and even Peter knows it's not him.

"Derek…" Stiles murmurs quietly, so very quietly, as he turns toward the younger wolf.

Derek turns his head toward him slowly. It's clear he's heard Peter's and Stiles's conversation.

"I need to know if you want this, if you're willing to do it." Stiles explains succinctly and to the point. "If that's not what you want, we won't press…"

"I wasn't born to be an Alpha…" Derek tries his best to explain his fears.

"Doesn't mean you cannot do it." Stiles replies calmly. "The question here is, do you want to?"

Derek thinks it over for a few seconds longer, his eyes straying towards Jackson. He's clearly going into shock already, and while he can hear the ambulance in the distance, paramedics won't be enough and they won't make it to the hospital in time.

"Yes." Derek announces abruptly. "I'll do it."

It's… even those present would have had a hard time explaining afterwards exactly what happens in that moment. Stiles has no idea what to do. It's not like there are any spells to make an alpha (or are there?). Then again, half the time he doesn't know what he's doing anyway! In the end, he does nothing, or at least he doesn't think so. The moment the last word passes Derek's lips something happens. Like some kind of invisible breeze, the ground beneath them seems to shudder, just for a moment; Stiles can feel the exact moment when the power rushes through Derek before settling at his core, though its hard (impossible) to tell where it comes from exactly. Derek closes his flashing-blue eyes tight for several seconds before he opens them again, except when he does they aren't blue, but red.

When Derek looks around, he doesn't even know why he's doing it, it just seems instinctual. The first thing he notices is Malia, a few yards away, mobile still in hand, she tilts her head to the side the moment their eyes meet, baring her neck to him. Beside her, Noah turns to look at Malia, then back at Derek, and finally tilts his head too, just slightly, but its enough. By the time Derek's eyes turn to one side, Lydia's head is already cocked, she has even pulled her hair over her opposite shoulder for good measure. Jackson, even as out of it as he is, follows suit. As does Peter, crouched on Derek's other side, beside Stiles.

However, when Stiles goes to follow suit, Derek stops him. He's not even fully sure why he does it, it just seems right; or rather, it doesn't seem right for Stiles to submit to him.

"Not you." Derek states. "You're my equal Stiles. And you always will be."

Stiles nods, his eyes shining bright with tears he refuses to let fall.

"Jackson…" Derek murmurs, turning his attention back to the bleeding boy. "This is not how it should be done. We should have taken time. For you to learn about what it means to be a werewolf, the changes you will undergo. The good things and the bad, the risks…"

"That'd be good man… if I weren't dying." Jackson managed to spit, teeth red and blood on the edge of his mouth. "Now… what say we just jump ahead all that and you bite me now?"

A part of Derek doesn't like it. As great as the power rushing through him is, as much as he wants, needs a pack… the Bite is a gift, and it doesn't feel right to give it to someone who doesn't fully understand what they're getting into. But at the same time, if he doesn't do it, Jackson will die. And that's wrong in so many ways…

So Derek takes Jackson's offered arm, and bites into his wrist. Lydia holds on tighter onto his other hand, but whatever pain Jackson might be in, he doesn't make a sound, just holds on. Whether it be because he's so weak, or something else, the change takes almost right away, or at least it begins to. There's very little blood coming out of the bite-mark on Jackson's wrist, and soon enough the bleeding of his stomach slows down as well. When Lydia stops clenching her teeth together so tight she's practically grinding them they all knows it's worked. And it's also right about then that they all begin hearing the sirens.

"You need to take Jackson and go." Stiles states.

"You need to all get out." Noah corrects.

"Wha…?" Even Stiles wasn't expecting that one.

"I can justify Peter and I being here and finding this lot." Noah motions at the hunters. "Most of them were hit by bullets and the guns are all in my name; even the ones taken down by spells, it's easy enough to just say they were knocked out with a blunt weapon of some kind, even the butt of a gun. I can make it believable. But I cannot explain you being here, any of you. If your presence goes on record questions will be asked. The kind none of us want to have to answer."

Stiles hates that his dad is right. He really does. But in the end they take off. Moving as fast as they can, they place Jackson in the back of his Porsche. Lydia on the passenger seat, twisted in such a way that her whole attention is on him, Stiles behind the wheel. Derek and Malia for their part run through the woods. They will all be meeting back at the Stilinski place. It goes against all of Derek's brand new alpha instincts to leave his newly turned Beta, his first Beta, but he knows that's how it has to be. Also, Jackson's with Stiles, which means he'll be as safe as can be.

**xXx**

Jackson wakes up on blankets and pillows, surrounded by bodies. It's not exactly a new thing, if one was to be completely honest. However, he feels different about it than he ever has before, it might be because he's a wolf now. Before it had been all about the comfort, pure and simple. Nice in ways he couldn't put into words. Now, it's not that he's gotten any better at the words, but that more than nice, it feels right. It feels comfortable, peaceful, he's with pack, and that makes everything right (also, the fact that he's no longer dying, and all that's left from last night's ordeal is a lightening scar in the middle of his stomach is great too).

It's the morning and if he focuses on his heightened hearing he can hear someone working in the kitchen, drinking coffee, probably the sheriff, or Peter, or both; there's someone showering in the bathroom upstairs, and another person moving silently inside one of the rooms (silently enough to be a wolf, which means either Peter or Derek).

Focusing closer to himself Jackson can feel Lydia laying on top of him, still, exactly where she fell asleep the night prior. Ear right over his heart… he remembers Stiles explaining why:

"_You know that Lydia's a banshee, she's connected to death, can hear those on the other side of the veil if she concentrates, and she wails when there's death coming." Stiles explained. "A banshee bound to a family or pack, like her, screams to announce the death of those she's bound to. Sometimes they might even get a sense with enough time to warn them, but that doesn't happen very often." He takes a deep breath. "And then… well, I don't know if this is extremely rare, or entirely unique to Lydia. She can hold back her scream. It takes a lot of power, and a hell of a strong will, but she can hold back her scream. Not for long but… well, as you can probably see, it can be game-changing…" _

Yeah, Jackson can see. Even if it was never explicitly said, he understands. Lydia fought to hold back her scream, and that somehow helped save his life. Gave him, them, the time necessary for Derek to become an alpha and give him the bite. He's also quite certain he won't be the only bitten wolf for long. Issac and Erica already expressed a desire to be turned. It doesn't matter how many times Derek tells them it isn't simple, that they need to first understand what it is all about, the consequences, the dangers… he doubts it'll change anything. Jackson knows that even without that bullet in his gut he still would have chosen to take the bite, to be part of the pack… well, they were already a pack, but still.

"Te amo (I love you)…" Lydia whispers the words straight into Jackson's chest, still half-asleep.

"Love you too," He whispers into her hair in return. "Always."

He has no idea what may be yet to come, but he knows that as long as he has Lydia, and the pack, he'll be alright. They all will be alright…

* * *

So... that confrontation is done. What do you think? Good? Bad? Insane (that one's probably a given)? That scene at the beginning, the two groups standing face to face, I saw it so clearly inside my mind, it made me want to write this series, so I jumped into it, everything else was built around this scene (and the other two points mentioned in the initial notes). Also, I took the chance to make my favorite characters (mainly Stiles, and also Lydia, and Noah a bit too) as badass as possible.

Another important part of this was that I never liked the whole 'true alpha' shtick they pulled in the series. It was obviously a move to push up the main character without having him kill someone else, because he was young and they didn't want to deal with that. But it always made me feel like, using that as an excuse they made Scott too self-righteous. The way he treated Stiles sometimes, like when he killed in self-defense... I hated how he treated the one who was supposed to be his best friend, his almost-brother, and considering that Scott wouldn't have lasted two days after being bitten without Stiles's help! (And while some might blame Stiles for Scott being bitten in the first place, it was still each of their choice to go into the woods that night, regardless of whose idea it might have been originally). Originally I was going to just say, to hell with the TA bs and be done with it... but then I decided to twist it what I believe it should have been. Because you cannot have an alpha who doesn't kill anyone, how can he/she protect their pack from the real, big threats if they never kill? Did the writers really think that all the enemies would be cowed by a slap on the wrist? That's ridiculous! So... I decided to do things my way, hope you like my particular spin to the TA idea and how one 'ascends' (and of course that TA had to be Derek but that was a given from the start).

Now, this piece set the grounds for the next one, which I'm sure is what many of you have been waiting for from the start. Brace yourselves people and consider this your one and only warning because STEREK IS COMING! And that means Angst, and love, and fluff, and obviously action and... did I mention Angst? Yeah, see you all in two weeks and don't forget to _Listen to the Wind_...


	5. Listen to the Wind

Chapter summary: Some things are impossible to hide: the sun, the moon, the truth. Some things never truly die: hope, faith… and love. And those are the things that will give them what they've always wanted, what they truly deserve.

* * *

And here we are! This is where things get the most intense. Why? Because a lot more ended happening in this particular piece than I was originally planning on. But I like how it turned out, so... yeah.

Here is where the Sterek happens! I did tell you that was coming, and here's where I deliver. A lot of feels, passion, a tiny bit of fluff and hell of a lot of angst, because what are feels and fluff without some healthy amount of angst to both balance it out and make everything all the more intense? Also, things just cannot be simple when it comes to love, ever. But it's so worth it...

I might also get a bit heavy on the world-building, but I thought it important to explain, once and for all, what Stiles and Lydia did exactly when everything began, and why. And also, you'll finally learn why Derek isn't exactly the same as them. Any questions after this is over and you may ask.

More notes at the end.

* * *

**Listen to the Wind **

Stiles starts off his day in a fairly good mood… scratch that, in an excellent mood. And why shouldn't he? Gerard Argent is dead, Chris Argent has finally got his head out of his ass and will be dealing with Allison, and Scott, himself; the pack is safe, they have their Alpha: Derek who, this time actually believes he deserves to be the Alpha (Stiles knows, instinctively, that the Acclamation wouldn't have worked otherwise) and Jackson is the first (but certainly not last) to be turned. Yes, he has more than enough reason to start his day in an excellent mood.

There is, of course, the part he will never acknowledge out-loud, in the light of the day. All the ideas that have infiltrated his head, the delicious dream that invaded his subconscious from the moment that a certain Alpha took hold of his chin softly, so very softly, and told him not to submit, that they were equals… Stiles will never acknowledge those thoughts openly, but that's okay, a boy can still dream, can he not?

Stiles is so lost in his dreams he doesn't even pay attention to the fact that his bedroom isn't quite as empty as it should be when he steps in, with nothing but a towel around his waist. He heads straight for his drawers, grabbing the first pair of boxer-briefs his fingers find and is about to drop the towel when the wordless exhalation behind him freezes him. Stiles doesn't say a word, he hardly even breathes for a moment there, one hand holding his underclothes, the other barely managing to keep the towel in place. He's trying to think of something, anything, to say, when suddenly there's a warm (hot, almost burning hot) body behind him, so close they're almost but not quite touching. The moment a nose presses to the side of his neck Stiles loses all control.

Derek has no idea what he's doing, or why he's doing it, not really. It's all just… Stiles. The boy drives him crazy at the best of times and right then! It's like there's something about him, some kind of energy, a pull, like Stiles is the sun and he has to follow the light… Peppermint, hazelnut and an undercurrent of something he couldn't quite describe, almost like the air just before a thunderstorm; Stiles's scent, like everything else, is enough to drive the wolf crazy. And then there's the rest of him, all that alabaster skin, all the moles dotting it, drawing his attention, and all that tight muscle… Stiles is tall, and always looks so lanky, clumsy, in too big shirts and plaid and loose jeans… Derek would have never imagined all that hid underneath those clothes. The skin and the muscles and such perfection… He cannot help himself, he really cannot, he just has to get closer, has to touch, has to smell…

It all happens so fast. In seconds, less than that even. One moment Derek's nose is pressed against the side of Stiles's neck, breathing in as much as he can… the next his back is against the wall just beside the closet, their bodies pressed completely, so perfectly, so deliciously… and they're kissing, or more like devouring each other. The kiss… it doesn't feel like a first kiss at all, it's all passion, and desire and so much more; and it's not even about dominance, the both of them give and take equally and it's absolutely perfect…

They only break away when oxygen becomes an absolute necessity, and the first thing to come out of their mouths in the other's name in a strangled gasp, like they just cannot help themselves.

Stiles knows they need to calm down, he knows it and yet it's so hard… so he settles for pressing his nose against Derek's collarbone, taking his scent in, his heartbeat, counting his breaths until his own fall into sync. Derek follows suit, his wolf practically purring inside. It's one sweet, perfect, moment… until there's someone knocking at the front door.

**xXx**

Jackson's thoroughly enjoying his late morning. Just laying on all those pillows and blankets, his mate on his chest, pack around him, and his alphas… somewhere in the house, close enough for him to feel safe and content. His attention is briefly diverted from his beloved's red hair (which actually looks a shade or two redder than it was just yesterday…) by what sounds almost like a body being slammed against a wall? Jackson would be worried, except he can hear Peter almost cackling from his spot in the kitchen, a sound that is followed by Malia's childish 'ew!' as she sits up, not too far from him.

"Seems like our alphas are getting a tad close and personal…" Peter drawls with obvious glee.

For a moment it seems like the sheriff might be about to spit his coffee… either that or choke on it. Though in the end all he does is swallow, close his eyes and let out a long-suffering sigh:

"I don't want to know, I really, really don't." He mutters.

Peter is surprisingly respectful of that choice and says nothing else, though Jackson's sure he's not the only one that can feel the tension mounting inside… like a cord about to snap or… something. It's something he cannot put into words, something's coming something huge, and so very, very important… a part of his mind does stop briefly to wonder at the sheriff's easy acceptance of everything. Well, he cannot know how easily he took to werewolves, magic and the supernatural of course, Jackson wasn't around for that. But the man just heard that his sixteen year old son is getting 'close and personal' with a twenty-something-man (twenty-two, three? Jackson cannot for the life of him remember Derek's exact age; then again, it's surprising enough that he remembers Stilinski's birthday but he does, he also remembers the boy having been moved a year ahead, a long while ago, until the death of his mother and so many missed classes made it necessary for him to repeat a year, thus ending in their class again… just like not many are aware of the fact that Lydia was moved ahead too, meaning she's actually younger than the rest of their generation) and has no reaction whatsoever to that particular tidbit of information. Is it the knowledge of the time-travel? He knows Stiles is, for all intents and purposes, older than sixteen, perhaps that helps. Then again, it might be something else entirely, and it's not like Jackson is about to ask.

Just when it feels like the tension is finally about to snap, everything changes abruptly, and in a most unexpected manner: with knocking on the front door. It actually takes Jackson a handful of seconds to fully comprehend what the sound even is. No one knocked on the Stilinskis' door, everyone just… let themselves in. And why shouldn't they? From the very first day the pack spent the night together, or more like the next morning, the Sheriff told them all to feel like they are at their homes, to act like it; they are free to come and go as they please. And Jackson knows he's not the only one who feels more at home right there than at his own (more like his parents', really) place.

Malia's unexpected hissing is indicative of how not-right it all is. Jackson's seriously wondering whether he should do something, disinclined as he is to move, much less wake-up Lydia when the fact that she hasn't woken up thus far shows how much she needs her sleep, he likes the idea of an enemy being at their door and her being unaware and unprepared even less.

And then Stiles is there, jeans low on his hip, belt undone, feet bare, no shirt on and hair still damp. Showing how quickly he had to have moved. He crosses the living room in a few quick steps and soon is opening the door: words slipping through clenched teeth:

"You are not welcome here… Deaton."

As if the word, the mere name were some kind of spell, Lydia's green eyes snap open and she sits up immediately. Jackson following her movement, unable to help himself. In seconds Lydia is on one knee, one hand holding her white blade, the other poised and almost glowing already. Jackson crouches beside her; he doesn't know what exactly is causing such a reaction in his mate, but in the end it doesn't matter, all she needs to do is say the word and he'll follow her.

"Ah Mr. Stilinski…" Deaton, for it is indeed him standing at the door, speaks in a genial, almost grandfatherly tone. "I would like to speak with Mr. Hale…"

"I told you, you're not welcome here." Stiles is practically speaking through clenched teeth.

Deaton tries to get past him anyway, only to find he cannot cross the threshold… that surprises the pseudo-druid, though he does his best to hide that fact.

"This is some interesting magic you have at work Mr. Stilinski." Deaton says, trying to sound kind and teacher-like. "Though I must warn you of the dangers of letting the wrong kind of individuals work magic in your home. It could put you, your father at risk. If you would let me Mr. Stilinski…"

"How many times must I repeat that you're not welcome here before it gets through your thick skull?" Stiles asks, he's gone past furious and into livid, practically vibrating with it, though at the same time, he's controlling his voice so completely, not raising it at all. "I don't trust you, and you think I'll let you do any kind of magic, that'll I'll let those I care for be at your mercy in any way, shape or form?"

"Mr. Stilinski…"

"Because of you Derek was almost killed!" Stiles loses his composure, just for a fraction of a second, but it is enough in the end. "I'll be damned before I allow you anywhere close to my family, my pack!"

"Your pack…?" Deaton echoes, until the answer occurs to him. "The Alpha-mate? That is a surprising turn of events indeed. I myself was emissary to the last Hale Alpha, Lady Talia and could be of great assistance…"

"The last Hale Alpha was Laura and you're the reason she's dead! I don't know why, I don't know how. But I wouldn't trust you, Alan Deaton, were you the last man on this world I could go to for help! Whatever words you might spin, whatever pretty lies you may try and tell, I know better. I know you, pseudo-druid…"

"Pseudo-druid! You offend me Mr. Stilinski…"

"Oh no! I haven't even begun to offend you!"

"You know, magic like the one done in this place. Wild without approval. The Council could be called on you and that would be most… regretful…"

"Please! As if I would be foolish or stupid enough to fall for such a lie."

"I say no lie…"

"Maybe not. But that doesn't mean what you say is true either. I know how people like you work, Deaton. The Magic Council exists, yes, but they're nothing by now. Their once great influence lost since the passing of the last of Emrys's line! Really, if they had any real power you would have been stripped of your powers years ago!" Stiles steps forward, threateningly. "Don't think me ignorant of the world I live in Alan Deaton. I know who and what I am, the truths and dangers that surround me and mine. I know you call yourself a druid, but all you really are is a leech, a parasite, seeking power that's never been meant for you. I know not if you were in any way connected with the cutting down of the Nemeton, though you certainly did your best to take advantage of it. Regardless of the consequences that might have brought on all of Beacon Hills. You've defiled a place where blood and tears were spilled, trying to steal from the dead and the grieving. You caused, either by your actions or your in-actions, the fall of one of the greatest packs in this Continent! And now you intend to do the same with those few left. Well, I will not allow it. I will protect this pack, from the Argents, from you, and from every single person and force that might wish them ill! By Selene this I swear…" He takes a deep breath, magic almost sparking at his fingertips. "On this day and in this hour I Mage Mieczyslaw Stilinski, declare you, Alan Deaton, in contempt of the Hale Pack, Magic and the Mother, they shall judge you, and may you beg mercy from them before the end. So I say, so mote it be!"

"So mote it be!" Lydia seconds almost automatically.

Stiles slams the door close before Deaton can say a single word, reinforcing the wards to have them expel him from the property entirely.

For several seconds no one really moves. Everyone just watches Stiles standing there, his body almost vibrating, though its nothing compared to the tattoos on his back, the way they both seem to almost ripple, as if about to shoot right off his skin…

"That was absolutely awesome!" Malia crows, jumping on her feet and running around excitedly. "So badass! You totally owned Deaton! And you didn't even need to fire a single spell!"

"That's not how it was supposed to be Malia." Stiles says calmly. "Much as I might hate him for what he's done, to my pack and… to everyone. I am not meant to be his judge and jury. All I could do was submit him before the judgment of those with the power to make justice."

"And you did that how?" His dad asks, confused.

"It's a piece of very old, almost forgotten magic." Stiles shrugs. "I used my magic to call on him, listing his crimes, and against whom those crimes were committed. Magic itself, and the Higher Powers will judge him accordingly. All I did was set things in motion. It's something anyone with enough power and the right reasons can do. Though you must beware, for if you try to cheat the Magic and the Mother, you shall be judged instead..." He exhales. "It's not something to be done lightly. I myself never planned it. Deaton has never been my priority, regardless of what he might have done in the past. From the moment I cut him off from accessing the power of the Nemeton he ceased being a true threat to me, to any of us. Of course the moment his actions put this pack in danger all bets were off…"

Every single member of said pack cannot help but shiver, not in dread but in delight in that moment. Stiles cuts such a fine picture… and it's not just how handsome and sexy he looks, or the power that seems to almost be forming a cloak all around him, it's the way he speaks, the way he stands, the way they all know without the smallest sliver of a doubt that every word he says is true. He will fight for them, he will protect them, they're safe with him… safety, true safety, can be such a hot commodity even at the best of times.

"What… what just happened here?" Derek's voice breaks the moment.

All eyes turn to him then, standing on the entrance to the living room, he's wearing jeans and a wife-beater (which was clearly thrown on rather hastily, judging by the way it's more than a little wrinkled and not settled right on his shoulders), no shoes; also, in his hand is another shirt, probably meant for Stiles.

"You… the way you spoke to Deaton," The more Derek speaks, the faster the words come, but there's no eagerness, instead the hint of something dark, something close to desperation… "You called yourself a mage and… you have the symbol of my pack tattooed on your back. What… Who are you really Stiles?"

Stiles half-flinched at the 'what', silently reminding himself that Derek had corrected himself mid-sentence, trying to believe it means things aren't as bad as they seem… no, but certainly more than bad enough…

"I am Mieczyslaw Stilinski, son of Noah Stilinski and Claudia Stilinski nee Wójcik, Mage and Guardian of the Beacon of Beacon Hills…" Stiles is completely honest with Derek, he can do and be nothing less. "I am what the Nemeton once was, until Gerard Argent, possibly with, possibly without the assistance of pseudo-druid Alan Deaton, poisoned it. As for why this was done… Gerard probably thought that doing it would erase the power in this area, but truth is that all along the Nemeton was but a conduit; it filtered the power, and while it certainly contained a lot, it wasn't the origin of it, that was the Mother. By which I mean Mother Earth. Druids and other supernaturals could pray to the Mother, with the Nemeton as conduit, it's why it was of such importance. Men like Gerard and Deaton… they've never understood it. One thought that he could steal the power from the Nemeton, like he would do so from another supernatural, but you cannot steal from the Mother. Gerard thought he could destroy it, and the same proved to be true. But their actions meant that for the longest time Beacon Hills was in flux, because a poisoned Nemeton could neither truly hold magic, nor filter it correctly anymore. So the task was given to me. Thus I am now the one who's connected to the Mother, I hold the power of this territory, and I balance it, though I am still not the Mother, just a conduit to her. Eventually, when the land is well and truly ready, a new Nemeton will take the place of the old one, and things will go back to being how they're supposed to be. Until then, I'll fulfill the task I've been entrusted with."

"Why you?"

Stiles has always known the time would come when the truth would have to come out. He long ago promised himself never to lie to those he loves, and that includes Derek. Doesn't mean he's ready for it, much as he might have tried to prepare for it, he doesn't think he could ever be prepared for it, but the time has come, and he really will not lie to Derek. So he waves with one hand for the side of the room where they've pushed the bigger of the couches, the two sit, angled towards each other, and Stiles begins talking:

He begins with a day when two boys, best-friends and almost-brothers found half a body in the woods, all through wolf-bites, insane Alphas, psychotic hunters, one cryptic useless druid, an Alpha pack, darach, the nogitsune, kitsunes, oni, and so much more, each tale seemingly worse than the last, ending with the three-fold sacrifice of the last members of the Hale pack at the Nemeton stump…

"Ideally, it should have been one of us." Stiles admits quietly. "It would have meant more power and we would have been able to go back further… but both Lyds and I knew one another enough to understand we would have never survived, alone. So we did it together. I… we were quite surprised to find ourselves as far back as we did. But we did our best with what we had. We set out to giving Peter a pack, found Malia and gave her the choice, and did our best to make sure that our pack would be safe, happy… of course things have happened we could have never planned for. Butterfly effect can be a bitch. But we've done our best." He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck almost nervously with a hand. "I wish we could have done something, anything for Laura, I really, really do…"

"She made her choice, trusted the wrong person." Derek admits quietly. "I almost did the same. Would have, had it not been for you."

He's long since offered Stiles his shirt, but the teen has yet to put it on. Not because he doesn't want to get dressed or anything; but because they're actually having a moment right now, and he feels like if he so much as looks away, that moment will be ruined.

"And… me?" Derek grimaces even as he asks the question, as if both wanting and not wanting an answer to it, all at the same time (Stiles completely understands).

"You chose not to be part of the ritual." Stiles does his best to keep his voice even, though its hard. "I… we understood it. You… the other Derek… he was tired. Too much had happened. He just wanted to rest. A part of us wanted the same of course, but it just didn't feel right. It felt like giving up, and we've never been very good at that. In the end y… he fought for us, to give us a chance to finish the ritual. The hunters found us halfway through and he kept them away from us until it was too late for the magic to be stopped. H… Y… He died just before the enchantment took hold and we were sent back."

He can taste it so clearly in that moment, the blood and tears in that one and only kiss. It was the barest brush of lips yet he'll never forget it, the ghost of a kiss that will haunt him for the rest of his life, the kiss he always dreamed of and never got to have… not on that life, yet now… Stiles is half lost in memory, of the other life, of less than an hour earlier, it takes him a moment to gather his wits and focus fully once again, and once he does he needs a few more seconds to fully register the words that just came out of Derek's mouth, which is why it takes him so long to react so long to them, though once he does… it's like the air has been punched clean out of him.

"Is that why… why you kissed me? Do you think… do you expect me to be him? The other Derek? Your Alpha? Your mate?"

Derek doesn't even know why he's asking all those questions. From the moment the very first one crossed his lips he knew they weren't right, on the contrary, they were wrong, so very wrong, but he just cannot help himself… He's not a good person, has never claimed to be so, but it goes beyond that too. The questions don't come from him being a bastard, but from being an insecure boy who already lost practically everything he loved once, the thought of letting himself have… anything, only to lose it later on, it terrifies him.

He's so lost in his own fear and doubt that he manages to miss entirely the moment everything changes. It happens in less than a second, nothing more than the blink of an eye, and everything has changed. Stiles, who just a heartbeat before was staring at him with such intensity, his eyes sparking and drawing him in like magnets, like the sun itself, with a gravitational force that far surpassed that of the Earth at his feet; so much that Derek's almost ready to forget everything and everyone around them and go back to holding onto him, to claiming that small, perfect mouth… and then the words come, and from one moment to the next the spark in the eyes is completely gone. Stiles stands stiffly, almost mechanically. He stumbles a bit to the side and when Derek goes to help him, the younger man flails so much in his hurry to stay away that he trips over his own feet several times before slamming against a chair. He's back fully on his feet almost as fast though, throwing his shirt finally over himself without seemingly really stopping to think about it and then he's walking away, saying something about a walk before moving past everyone and out of the house through the back-door, feet still bare.

Derek doesn't know what to do or what to say at all, the first person his eyes strays to though is Lydia, and she's staring at his with such darkness in her green eyes Derek can almost swear he can see death, his own, in them:

"You're an idiot." She states, completely matter-of-fact.

"I know." Derek exhales, mentally kicking himself for the insensitive words.

"No, you don't." Lydia's anger gives way to very deep sadness. "You really, really don't." She stops to think things over for a few seconds, eventually deciding they have nothing left to lose. "Stiles and the other Derek, lets call him our old Alpha, they were never mates. As for why? I cannot know for sure of course, but I think it was just never the right time. First Stiles was underage, something they were both painfully aware of… right now it's different because Stiles doesn't act like a teenager, and everyone reacts to that, treats him like he's actually older than he is physically. And it's not even just him but the both of us. Of course there were also all the things that kept being thrown at us, a new threat every other week. Stiles used to say that we were trapped in a Buffy season or something like that." She shakes her head at the memory. "Things got better for a while after the Anuk-Ite and the first defeat of Monroe and her men. We got to go to College, Stiles and I gave it a go at being a couple, realized we worked much better as friends and quasi-siblings. He got to be a fully-fledged FBI Agent for a little while… then, of course everything went to hell. By the time we were all back together again no one was thinking about love anymore. Surviving was all that really mattered."

Silence reigns, and for a moment Derek thinks that's it. He's not expecting it when Lydia begins to speak again, or what she says next:

"Our Old Alpha never trusted Stiles, not like you do." Lydia says it softly, almost too quietly, like it's a secret she's afraid others will find out, though she still wants him to hear. "Oh, he trusted Stiles to have his back in a fight, to keep guard when rest was absolutely necessary, to look after the pack. But He never trusted Stiles with his more vulnerable side, with what was truly in his mind, in his heart… you do. That's what makes Stiles look at you the way he does, and if you cannot see that…"

She doesn't finish the sentence, doesn't say 'then you don't deserve him', because truth is, Lydia is afraid. She knows Derek and Stiles fit together, like no other people ever have or ever will, they're a perfect match, and if they cannot make things work, what hope is there left for anyone else? Yet, if Derek cannot understand the difference between himself and his other timeline's counterpart, the reason why Stiles might always have been in love with him, but would have never been with the other Derek, not really, then there's nothing they can do. Stiles deserves to be loved, and he deserves to be loved for the right reason, for no other sake but that of love itself, and not because the person thinks of it as fate, duty, or worse, necessity.

**xXx**

Stiles doesn't know how long or how far he runs/walks exactly before he stops wanting to both flee and fight at the same time. It can get confusing, even inside his own head. His instincts as a Warrior Mage, as the one who fights back whenever something or someone provokes him, against those he has as a caretaker, the 'pack mom' as he knows some of the pups call him when they think he cannot hear (nevermind that he's not a woman, and they're not wolves, yet). The first half of him is offended by Derek's implication, wants to fight, to make him hurt as Stiles himself is hurting… but the later blanches at the mere thought of causing any pain at all to someone he cares so deeply for. And it's not even about being in-love with Derek, he could have no romantic feelings whatsoever for Derek Hale and still feel exactly the same. Because they're pack, and how can he possibly think, really think, about hurting pack?! He's not that kind of person, not that kind of Alpha!

Even after mostly calming down Stiles is in no hurry to return home. He knows the pack will be worried, but the mere thought of facing Derek… he feels the need to settle down more first. He needs to be fully at peace with himself if he's going to help lead the pack alongside Derek and not let his foolish little heart get in the way.

It takes several hours, but Stiles does manage to find his focus again. Derek was never the reason they traveled back in time anyway, he needs to go back to the real priorities. The next on the list are the Alpha Pack, the Darach and… Cora. Stiles knows Peter has been eagerly awaiting the chance to reunite with Cora, ever since waking up; the only reason he hasn't gone looking for her is because none of them have the slightest idea where to even begin. So after much failed planning Lydia pretty much smacked them in the back of their heads, pointing out how much easier it would be for them to simply wait. Cora would be coming straight to them sooner or later. Of course, Stiles would rather they find her before the Alpha Pack does, so he's been keeping a loose hold on the telluric currents, hoping to be able to sense Cora through them before she's intercepted (of course, if she's intercepted before getting close enough it will all be for naught… but there's only so much he can do on that front).

It seems almost like coincidence, or perhaps fate when, just as that thought is running through his mind, Stiles feels one of those very currents thrum… auras have just stepped into his territory, they're moving fast, in pursuit. Sensing that time will be of essence Stiles hurries to the closest current, stepping right onto it and letting himself fall into it… It's insane, traveling the currents, the ley-lines like that. A skill that very few individuals in history have ever possessed. He cannot say he's mastered it, then again, such a thing would be hard to do when there's no one to teach him and no way to learn other than, essentially, by doing. It's the closest to long-distance teleportation there is though, and when involved with beings who can move as fast as the wolves do, running isn't enough, and short-distance teleporting (like what he did to get Erica and Boyd our of the Argent basement) gets tiring fast. So he'll use his magic any way he can (and hope it'll be enough in the end). Almost as an afterthought, Stiles sends a mental call to Lydia, letting her know what's going on and where he's headed; depending on how many of the alphas are actually pursuing Cora, he might need help (who's he kidding? His luck being what it is they will all be pursuing Cora, and he's going to need a hell of a lot of help!).

When Stiles steps out of the ley lines he ends up doing so closer to the rushing wolves than he planned. Doesn't matter, he's always been good at thinking on his feet. The moment he's got solid ground under his feet again Stiles raises his head and howls… or at least, as much as a human can. And it's not just any howling either, it's a very specific tune, one he hopes Cora will be able to recognize, even if she hasn't been around for years. It's the 'Hale Call', the specific howl the Hale pack uses to call on one another. He hopes it'll allow Cora to trust him, at least long enough for him to be able to protect her.

It actually works, from one moment to the next Cora stops zig-zaging through the underbrush, instead heading straight for him. The moment she's passing his side Stiles raises one of his hands, the mountain ash shooting down the length of his arm, past his fingers, to float suspended in mid-air for a fraction of a second before falling again, forming a perfect circle around both himself and Cora. It gives them a few feet on any direction which, strictly speaking, isn't that much, but it doesn't need to be, the important part is that it won't let any wolves in. The effectiveness of his plan is tested and proven true just seconds later, when the twins try to rush him only to end up crashing against the barrier and flying back several feet (because it's his power behind the barrier, and he's long since decided that just stopping isn't enough, he also pushes back, and does so as viciously as he can, even with passive magic like a mountain ash circle).

"Well well, well, what have we here?" Deucalion himself steps forth, examining the barrier, and cocking his head at Stiles in such a way that it makes the time-traveler wonder how anyone buys the 'poor blind man' act.

"I am Mage Wójcik, Guardian of Beacon Hills and the Hale Pack, and you're infringing on mine and my pack's territory." Stiles stated evenly.

"Oh really, and who believes themselves with the right to hold this territory?" Decaulion asks, testily, it's clear he wasn't expecting to find Stiles there.

That part does make Stiles wonder actually. The last time around the Alpha Pack only made their appearance when Derek had already been Alpha for a few months, already had a pack, even if most were bitten wolves and all a hell of a mess. Still. Considering that Derek only 'ascended' earlier on that very day (just before sunrise, in fact), there's no way the Alpha Pack can know about it yet, so why then are they in Beacon Hills? (Stiles swears to himself that if its Deaton's fault he'll skin the man! Then again, Gerard could always be the reason, Duke certainly had it for the old bastard).

"Eh… you…" Cora mumbles, doing her best to stay on her guard, even against him.

Stiles aches inside. He's never seen Cora like that: so unsure, so vulnerable… it's not a good look for her. She's a Hale, she's meant to be strong, and powerful and vicious to all but the few who might earn her trust. Stiles hopes he can do that again.

"It's okay." He assures her. "I'm a friend of your brother, and your uncle."

"Oh… so there is a Hale Alpha again, how… interesting." Deucalion hisses. "And who might that be exactly?"

"You do realize that no matter how much you posture and threaten and whatever, there's nothing you can do to me, to us, right?" Stiles cannot help but ask, keeping his tone perfectly pleasant but with a threatening undertone as he adds, almost conversationally. "I mean, I'm not taking the barrier down. There's no way I'm letting you anywhere near me, or Cora. And however much power you might claim to posses, you cannot get past the mountain ash. Also, if you try to bring your Emissary here so they can do it, I'll destroy them."

"Well, it does seem like you have everything planned, little mage." Deucalion smirks at him. "But tell me, how are you planning on going anywhere? It's true I might not be able to get past your little circle, but I don't have to. All I need to do is wait you out. Sooner or later you'll try to move, and I'll get you then. Now tell me, who's your alpha?"

Stiles says nothing, doesn't even challenge Deucalion anymore, knows there's no point. The wolf is absolutely insane, arguing with him would be pointless. Also, as it happens, ignoring him seems to do far more to infuriate the mad wolf than anything Stiles might have said in the end.

"Tell me who's your alpha!" He practically roars in fury after a minute or two.

"That would be me." Derek announces as he steps out of some trees.

He's not alone, thankfully. Half-hidden in the trees Stiles can see Jackson, Lydia, Malia, Peter; and while he cannot see his dad, he's no doubt Noah is around, he's just not the kind of man to stand back and do nothing. That's something both Stilinski men have in common.

"Derek Hale, son of Talia Hale… who are you to try and claim the position of Alpha?" Kali scoffs, clearly not thinking much of Derek.

Cora bristles, but Stiles's hand on her arm settles her. They both know Derek needs to handle things himself; much as they both might be angered by such dismissive words, he's the Alpha and needs to stand his ground.

"I am indeed, Derek Hale son of Talia Hale, brother of Laura Hale, current Hale Alpha." Derek announces. "Beacon Hills is my territory and you're not welcome here. Now leave!"

"Make me, little boy…" Kali challenges with a toothy grin.

"Easy Kali," Deucalion calls. "If you end it too quickly, what fun will there be for the rest of us?"

"What do you propose then?" Ennis is very interested in anything that he may consider fun (which mostly for him means killing and destruction).

"A fight, champion vs. champion." Deucalion proposes eagerly. "On our side of course that would be Ennis."

Peter steps out of the trees before Derek can say a word on their side. Uncle and nephew look at each other in silence for a few seconds before Derek nods, stepping back and allowing Peter to come face to face with Ennis.

"But Ennis is an Alpha…" Cora murmurs, worriedly. "Uncle Peter is a Beta, isn't he?"

"He is." Stiles nodded. "But you must remember Cora, that we are a pack. Peter is pack, which means that he doesn't stand alone. Whatever he might be doing, whatever fight there might be, his pack is always with him. Always."

It's something they learned the first time around, pretty much by accident and almost too late. Malia and Peter had still been with them back then. Something had gone wrong, they were forced to split up and Malia ended surrounded by too many enemies, with the rest of them too far away to be of any assistance. But by then they'd been a pack already, or at least Derek, Stiles, Lydia, Noah, Peter and Malia had been; they had believed in each other and trusted one another completely. According to Malia, she found herself able to fight in ways she never had before, knowing things she never learned; she was also just a little bit faster, stronger, her mind working better… all skills she'd gotten thanks to the pack. Because the pack had been with her in mind and heart, even if not in body, and that was enough.

Much has changed, and thankfully, a lot of it for the better. Stiles has no doubt that if Malia could access that kind of power on accident, Peter certainly can do so at will. So he doesn't doubt Peter, instead he just believes, in his family, his pack.

They're all shocked when Peter's first punch is almost enough to take down Ennis. It certainly makes him stumble. Peter takes advantage of the surprise to bring out his claws and make four slashes on the Alpha's face, neck and chest; two of them them quite big and one deep enough it bleeds a lot and doesn't heal the way most expect it to.

"What the…?!" The twins are beyond flabbergasted. "But he's not an Alpha!"

"No." Derek agrees evenly. "But he's not alone either. You all might call yourself a pack, but that's not what you are. You have no pack. Are nothing more than omegas with the power of alphas. You think because you call yourself a pack that's what you are, but you don't even know what it means to be a pack. If you did you would know what's going on…"

"What can a bunch of bastard alphas who've killed their own betas, killed the very wolves who were supposed to be under their care, know about pack?" Stiles hisses dismissively.

It's what he always hated about the Alpha Pack, why he never agreed with Scott and Derek on forgiving Deucalion and letting him go. Doesn't matter that Duke helped them later, one good deed didn't erase decades of bad ones, all the packs he'd destroyed, starting with his own. And yes, his own pack had been wrong, trying to kill him, considering him weakened because of his blindness (yet again trouble that could be laid at Gerard's feet), but while Deucalion might have been in his right to deal with his own pack, that should have been the end of it. Instead he'd gone around destroying other packs, getting others to do the same thing to their own packs.

Peter has Ennis in the ground and is one, perhaps two attacks away from killing him, when Kali lets out an inhuman screech and leaps at the older Hale. Only for a bullet to hit her high on her chest, just bellow her collarbone, before she can so much as touch Peter.

All wolves present hiss at the smell of wolfsbane in the air, as Kali begins screeching like mad, clawing at her own chest though its useless, Noah's bullets are laced with the strongest wolfsbane Stiles has in his little herb-garden. She has but minutes.

"You have a hunter with you?!" Deucalion snarls in disbelief.

"I am no hunter, though I am human." Noah announces simply, stepping out of the shadows, his personal gun still raised and ready. "I am also pack, and ready to fight for it."

"Kill them!" Deucalion roars at the twins.

Lydia is on the move almost before they are. Even as they begin to combine, before their huge, grotesque, combined form can emerge, she's raising her hands and unleashing her wail. The behemoth alpha never finishes forming, instead Ethan and Aiden end up on the mossy floor, unconscious, with blood dripping down their noses and ears.

"I am the Alpha of Alphas!" Deucalion roars, beyond furious. "And I will not be taken down by a bunch of bitten children and unworthy mongrels. I am the Demon Wolf!"

Derek is on him before Deucalion can even think of attacking anyone at all. He might be a new alpha, he may only have three actual were-betas (Jackson, Peter and Malia), but he knows a pack is about more than that, and he certainly has a strong pack at his back.

Deucalion believes he's so great, but truth is he has no idea who he's gone up against. He still can hardly believe that his whole pack has been defeated. They're the best alphas he's been able to find in the last six years. Strong alphas, who killed their betas in order to become stronger. They have gone through the country, making a name for themselves, killing those who dare stand in their way, who dare oppose them. Always proven themselves to be the strongest. So how can a young upstart boy who was never meant to be an alpha, never trained for it, who cannot have been alpha for long (otherwise they'd have heard about it) how can he be standing up against him? And how can he be winning?!

Kali is dead, Ennis might as well be and the twins… Deucalion doesn't even know what the little redhead (the Banshee, she's a banshee, though Duke has no idea how that's possible either) did to them exactly. What he does know is that they're not alphas anymore, he can feel that much. That fact, the mere thought that this little pack, the remains of one of the greatest packs in the world and a bunch of bitten wolves may have someone capable of taking that away… it terrifies him like nothing ever has.

"Mercy!" He cries out. "Mercy Alpha Hale!"

Derek stops, his claws a hairsbreadth from Deucalion's neck.

"Leave my territory." He growls at the older alpha. "And don't you dare ever return."

He doesn't even wait for Deucalion's response, instead turning his back on the insane man and begins walking to where Peter is still standing guard over the half-dead Ennis.

It all happens from one moment to the next. Deucalion roars some insult at Derek, leaping at the younger alpha, only to find himself crashing against a mountain ash barrier.

"That was your last mistake." Stiles informs him evenly.

The last thing the self-proclaimed alpha of alphas sees is the reflection of the moonlight on the thin stiletto dagger, made of pure silver, that is shot straight at him, going straight in between his eyes and through his brain.

Derek blinks for a moment. He sensed Deucalion's attack coming, too late to do anything about it. Though at the same time, he was never afraid, he knew the pack had his back. He turned around just in time to see the circle Stiles had conjured to protect himself and Cora (his sister was right there! She was alive and standing right there!) move from its old spot to encircle Derek instead; almost at the same time Stiles drew a dagger and threw it straight at the old Alpha's head. Killing him instantly.

"What's that blade made of?" Malia asks, curiosity getting the better of her.

"Silver, pure silver, though enchanted to be as resistant as steel." Stiles answers as, with a flick of his hand, the dagger flies back to his hand.

"Noah…" Peter calls quietly.

Noah doesn't need Peter to say a word. He just walks to Peter's side silently before raising his gun and shooting Ennis dead. Truth was, Peter knows he could have done it, could have finished it. He would have gotten the power of an alpha, the one thing he's wanted more than anything for so long… it's not even that he doesn't want to be an alpha anymore, because a part of him still does, a part of him probably always will. But he knows now there are more important things in the world, like the pack. He's not ready to give up the pack. So he'd rather stay a Beta and have the pack, than be an alpha and lose it.

The moment he's sure it's all over, the enemies are down, the pack is safe, Derek allows himself to be selfish, just for a moment. Though the part that would surprise others the most would be perhaps the fact that he doesn't go to Cora, he goes to Stiles.

Stiles opens his mouth to say something (he's no idea what, actually) but before he can even fully formulate an idea, his mouth is too busy to say a word. Derek's taking his mouth, taking all of him, like he's a man lost in the desert, dying of thirst after being lost for three days… He kisses Stiles like he's the moon, like he'll die if he doesn't… and for a moment Stiles corresponds. He lets himself believe that everything's right in the world, that everything's perfect, that love really does trump all… until a traitorous corner of his mind whispers dark words inside him, reminds him of Derek's words back at the house:

"… _do you expect me to be him?" _

Stiles pulls away. It almost pains him to do so, it feels like it might kill him to do so, and he can almost hear a whine coming from deep in Derek's throat even as he does. But Stiles has made up his mind. He will not stain the memory of what might have once been, he will not pull Derek into a relationship for the wrong reasons, he won't.

"No." He whispers, soft but firm.

"Stiles…" Derek doesn't understand, what's gone wrong now.

"I won't do this Derek." Stiles says quietly. "Not to you, and not to myself. This…" He exhales, the words burn him, like salt-water in his throat and his cracked lips, but he pushes them out anyway. "This is a mistake. I won't do this. Not to you, and not to me. We're co-alphas of the Hale Pack, partners, and hopefully friends. That's all. One day you'll find the right person to be your mate. Someone who will love you and whom you will love. Someone whose absolute care and devotion you will never doubt, not for a second." He doesn't say anything about himself, he's not that good a liar. "Now, go to your sister Derek. She came all this way just for you… and perhaps Peter. Go."

He doesn't even try smiling, that much is beyond even him. Instead he turns his attention to Lydia. Whose standing beside Jackson, looking at the unconscious twins.

"What are we going to do about them?" Jackson asks, distrustful.

"No idea." Stiles exhales.

He's absolutely exhausted. While he didn't do too much magic (mountain ash barriers are so basic he could have done them in his sleep, and they don't take that much energy), he's been moving since waking up, hasn't eaten a thing since the night before and he barely slept enough to mostly recover from the fight against Gerard. He really wasn't ready for the fight against the Alphas, and yet at the same time, it wasn't that hard… it actually makes him wonder. He knows he's stronger than he was the first time around, of course he is, but it cannot be just that. It makes him wonder if perhaps it was the unknown all along, that made them so vulnerable, so seemingly easy to kill, the first time around. In the other timeline, they hadn't known who the alphas were, what they were capable of, hadn't known what to expect (matter of fact, most of them hadn't even known anything was going on for months the first time around). It was the same with the Darach, and with almost every other enemy. They didn't know who their enemies were, what they could do, where to find them; and the unknown made the pack weaker, more vulnerable, while at the same time giving even more power to their enemies.

In sharp contrast. This time around they knew exactly who the alphas were, what they were capable of, knew their plans. There was no fear of the unknown, not for any of them. Even if the fight hadn't happened as it did, they would have been ready the next time. Thankfully that wouldn't be necessary. Deucalion, Ennis and Kali were dead, and the twins… he will let the others decide what to do with the twins. Stiles just doesn't think he can be objective about them. A part of him will always remember Ethan going to their aid when they needed it, will always feel bad about Aiden for what the nogitsune did; and that same part will also always remember that they were either directly or indirectly responsible for the deaths of both Erica and Boyd, they hurt Cora so much she refused to stay with them for long, they hurt Issac and tortured them all in many ways… so no, he cannot be objective about the twins. He'll let the others decide and accept their choice in the matter.

"Lets go home." He says simply.

He's just so tired… he wants the day to be over already.

"Stiles…" Lydia begins, a tad hesitant, she cannot help but take a glance at Derek.

"I just want to go home." Stiles doesn't beg, he won't… but it's a near thing.

"Lets go home kiddo." Noah nods immediately.

He too knows things haven't been truly settled between his son and Derek just yet. But they're both so stubborn… it's unlikely they'll settle matters any time soon. In the end, all he can do is be there for his son, and hope for the best. So that's what he'll do.

**xXx**

There are a lot of things Cora doesn't understand. That's not exactly a new thing, if she's honest with herself. It wasn't easy, being on her own after the loss of her family. She isn't sure she'd have survived, if those visiting wolves hadn't found her when they did, the little girl living on the streets in San Francisco… they gave her everything: food, clothes, a roof over her head, a pack… but she could never forget herself, could never forget that she was Cora Hale… and when the rumors finally reached South America, about a pack taking over Beacon Hills, the rumors of the Hale name being heard again…

She knows now things weren't that simple. The pack she first heard about wasn't really a pack, and the Hale the first rumors mentioned was actually Peter, not Derek. But those are minor details that don't matter in the grand scheme of things because there is a Hale Pack now, and a Hale Alpha. She has her family back… in her brother and her uncle, and a little cousin she hadn't known existed until recently (then again, no one knew she existed until recently). Their numbers might be low, but they won't be so for long, there are a bunch of teenagers ready and willing to receive the bite, young humans who understand what a gift the bite truly is, what pack is meant to be. She has no idea how that is possible, but it probably has something to do with him: the Mage: Stiles Stilinski.

That is perhaps the piece of the puzzle Cora understands the least. The boy is human, technically, he's also a very powerful mage; he calls himself the Pack Guardian, and is also one of their alphas. But, and this is the part that confuses her the most, he's not her brother's mate. They tried to explain it to her after the boy in question left for his room, after a long, hearty dinner.

"I don't understand." Cora tells Derek honestly. "I mean, he's your mate…"

"No, he's not." Cora doesn't understand why Derek keeps denying it!

"Yes, he is!" The she-wolf snaps. "I don't know what you think to achieve by your insistent denial Der, but you're mates. You're bound! How can you not see that?!"

"It's… it's not about me, it's about the Other Derek…"

Yes, they told her about the time-travel, but Cora doesn't understand how that's supposed to change anything. Like she said, there's a lot she doesn't understand, but really, it shouldn't be that complicated, should it?

Things get even more interesting when the redhead stalks straight o her brother, with the pace of a predator and the grace of some otherworldly creature, and then proceeds to slap him hard enough to turn his head around.

"I told you you're an idiot, and you understand nothing." She hisses at him, voice cold like ice… or like death.

"Lydia…" Derek begins, not quite knowing what to say.

"I've tried to understand you, to accept that you still have trouble seeing through things." Lydia tells him very evenly. "But the more you insist on your narrow-view of the world, the more that someone I love is hurt. Stiles is my brother. He is, besides Jackson, the person I love the most in the world. And you keep hurting him. Do you understand Derek, that if you were anyone else, I would kill you were you stand for daring to do that?"

"Then explain it to me Lydia. Explain it clearly because I just don't get it! You told me the Other Derek wasn't actually his mate, but he had to be, it's the only way there can be any bond between us when I know for a fact that we haven't mated."

"A bond like yours isn't a matter of bodies, it's a matter of the soul." Peter points out. "If Cora is right, and I myself don't doubt it for a second. You and Stiles are something quite rare and extraordinary. You're more than mates, you're a match, bound at your very souls, meant to be, no matter what. Some believe that all living creatures, humans and supernaturals alike, have perfect matches, but only a few selected individuals ever get to meet theirs. Meeting your match, getting the chance to love them and be loved by them… it's a gift, an extraordinary, precious gift that not many are worthy of. Of course, being a match is not a guarantee, is not a magical solution, you still have to fight to make things work; but it does mean that you're perfect for each other; that you could search the whole universe for the rest of eternity and never find another soul more suited to you. That's what you and Stiles are to each other."

"Something else you need to understand Derek is that it's not a matter of this or that version of anyone, it never was." Lydia finally decides to confess what she thinks is the most important piece of information. "Stiles and I… we did not jump back in time, did not send our minds or bodies or anything like that, back in time. We did not travel to an alternate reality or create an alternate timeline in order to change the past. We Shattered Time… we effectively destroyed the future that we knew, the world as we knew it to be here right now. Everything that the world had been from the moment we woke up in the past, to the moment we did the ritual was destroyed by that very ritual."

"Shattered Time…?!" Peter's white as a ghost. "But that's…"

"Forbidden magic? Yeah, we know." Lydia nods. "It's the kind of magic that the Mother would never allow… unless there was nothing else left. Time travel like most people understand it, like what is shown in the media… it's not possible. Paradoxes, and time loops and the rules of both science and magic; it just cannot be done. Not without destroying what was, and magic itself would never allow that, unless it were absolutely necessary."

"And it was, wasn't it?" Peter asks grimly.

"It was literally the end of the world." Lydia agrees. "Both Stiles and I have told you this. But I don't think any of you have really understood it…"

"Because we can't." Noah finishes for her. "Because we're, for the most part, simple people, small people in a small town. We cannot comprehend the idea of the world, of billions of lives, coming to an end."

"Indeed." Lydia agrees. "And truth is, we never wanted you to have understand it. It's why we never pressed on the matter. Why when you spoke of 'alternate selves', and 'other times' and pasts and futures, we let you. Because it was easier, for you, and for us. But now that mentality is hurting my brother, so if I have to force you all to face reality in order to make things better for Stiles, that's exactly what I'm going to do." She turns to face Derek straight on again. "There's no other you, no 'other' anything. You're Derek, he's Stiles, you're mates. You both know this, deep inside. But Stiles won't do anything about it, not again, not after what happened the last time… so it's all up to you."

Derek says nothing, he just spins around and practically stalks out of the room and straight for the stairs. Truth is that while he might not be ready to say it out loud, a part of him knew all along, the things Lydia just revealed. He knew, just didn't know how to put into words. And it's not even just about the dreams he's been having for years. Dreams that would terrify him and elate him in turns. He hated thinking of all the ways he failed, as a Hale, as an Alpha, as a wolf, as a brother… he hated thinking of all those who'd been hurt, who'd died because of him… yet at the same time he couldn't help the joy at knowing things could get better, and they would, that he would have a second chance at a family. It bothered him, looking at Laura through eyes and a mind that knew what it was like to be an alpha; look at her and see all the things she'd done wrong, all the ways she failed Uncle Peter, Derek, the memory of their pack and even herself. It's not like he'd been any better the first time around; but he'd learned, even if not in time for Erica and Boyd to be saved, he did learn… Laura never did, a part of Derek feels like she never even tried. The one time he even suggested that she could be better she nearly bit his head off! Derek loved his sister, but he's not blind to her faults, or his own.

Though perhaps the greatest joy those dreams ever brought him concerned one Stiles Stilinski. He loved going to sleep and dreaming about him, even before he began to so much as suspect that the boy might be real, that he might meet him one day. Derek couldn't help but love seeing him in his dreams, Stiles was such a beautiful boy, and not just physically; his huge golden heart, his quick clever mind, the strength of his will… all those were things Derek loved about Stiles. He hadn't understood, during those dreams, what exactly he might have ever done right to deserve the trust and the love of someone like Stiles Stilinski, yet he promised himself to never stop trying to be worthy of it… and in that too he failed. He won't be failing again.

**xXx**

When Stiles wakes up he feels relaxed, comfortable, warm and safe… that tells him immediately something's wrong (and how fucked up is his life that feeling good is for him a sign of something being wrong?!). A part of him wants so much to remain in that happy cocoon that it actually takes some effort for him to really wake up, there is a part of him that just doesn't want to give up whatever is making him feel so nice… when he finally pushes the drowsiness away he begins noticing things: like the big, strong, warm body curled up around his back, the arm slung around his waist, holding him tight, the hand pressed against his chest, right above his heart, or the legs entwined with his…

There is a part of Stiles, the core of his heart and soul that wants to cry, wants to moan Derek's name and bury himself tighter against him; wants to turn around and press his face into the were's neck, breathe in his scent, hear his heartbeat under his ear, lose himself in the one man he's loved in his whole life (or lives)… but he cannot.

Stiles exhales, fighting all his desires to do the last thing he truly wants: move away.

"No…" Derek grumbles, tightening his hold on Stiles, refusing to let him go.

"Let go Derek." Stiles hisses, trying to push his arm away, though it doesn't work (or perhaps he's not trying that hard…). "This is a mistake."

"No." Derek shakes his head emphatically. "The only mistake was ever letting you go. Letting you walk away from me. I may not be intelligent enough not to make mistakes, but I'm certainly enough not to make the same ones twice. I'm never letting you go again Stiles."

"Der…"

"No! I don't care about times, present, past or future change nothing. You're my mate today, like you were my mate yesterday, like you will be my mate tomorrow, and for as long as you may allow me at your side and in your heart."

The moment the scent of salt water, of tears, hits his nose, Derek reacts, spinning Stiles around in his arms. He has no idea what could have possibly happened, what has he done wrong this time?!And yet, he cannot smell sadness, so it cannot be all bad, right?

"Sti…" He doesn't get to even finish the word, before Stiles is throwing himself at him, claiming his mouth in a deep, passionate kiss.

"Forever." Stiles gasps as they're forced to part for oxygen. "How does forever sound to you?"

Derek's smile is so big he's sure it won't fit in his face. He takes a moment to kiss his mate (Stiles is his mate!) again, just for a moment, before burying his face into the boy's neck, taking in his scent, the scent of the both of them together:

"It sounds perfect to me."

And it is. Absolutely perfect.

It's impossible to know for sure what the future might bring. So much they've seen, and done and changed. But it will be alright, as long as they face it together, everything will be just fine.

* * *

So... too crazy or just crazy enough for you all?

From the moment I began writing Time River I knew I wanted to do something different than everyone else. It's not that I don't love the fics where our boys go back together and are mates from the beginning, or just one of them is but they still get together right away. But I wanted to spice things up a bit. I'm sorry if things got a bit confusing with the whole other world/no other world, but that's how my muse wanted to play it in the end. Also, I wanted Derek to know some things, not everything. While he was there for the ritual, and ended up involved, there was no intention, so the magic didn't treat him the same as Stiles and Lydia, which is why he knows some things, but not others. To him the other future is like a very long dream, he's seen the things but doesn't have the same connection to the events, the same feelings and everything else, that Stiles and Lydia do. Which is why his reactions differed. I hope you liked it.

When I began this fic there were three things I had in mind: Stiles as a BAMF human-alpha of sorts, forming the pack himself even before the wolves came into the picture; Peter waking up sane and with a new pack; and that scene with the pack standing against the hunters, Scott and Stiles on opposite sides. Everything else was built around those three points. It took me a lot of time to decide who to pair Lydia with, as the whole 'power of love' shtick loses its intensity when you consider Jackson walked away from her less than three months later (yeah, that was the actor's fault rather than the writer's or character's, but still). But Aiden was no way, and while I considered using someone like Jordan Parrish... in the end none of them fit. And then I was playing solitaire while listening to one of my favorite TW podfics and there was this moment when they said spoke about Lydia holding out that key, kanima-Jackson stopping in his tracks, letting Derek and Peter kill him, and then coming back as a wolf; and how it was all because of her love... and I knew it had to be Jackson. Then there was the Sheriff. I've seen some fics where he's like... a completely absent parent, like, he's never there, kind of like in seasons 1 and 2 (and I've always been so sure that he was so stressed out he pretended to believe every lie because it was easier and he was terrified of accepting any other possibility). But then I remembered one of the few episodes I've watched of the later seasons. Where almost everyone's forgotten Stiles and the Sheriff is trying so hard... and I wanted to do justice to that version of him. Malia being like a sister just fit (I never liked her and Stiles together as a couple, and Scott doesn't deserve her). I've never liked Deaton, and the thing with the hunters was a given.

Now, I have no plans to bring up anything from the other seasons, not really. I considered it, but I've hardly watched any of it. And most can be stopped so easily (they stopped the nogitsune from the very first day) so I saw no point. So, in many ways, this is an end. The next piece will be wrapping some things up and... and there'll be a surprise to all of you. You can guess, but unless someone tells me and is right in more than fifty percent, I'm not telling!

Also, I'm offering right now, if the response to this piece manages to surpass the previous ones I'd be willing to post the finale a week early (meaning in a week, instead of two). If not, it'll still be up in two weeks. And by 'surpass the previous ones' I don't mean necessarily in number. I'd love for people to leave review/comment and really tell me what you all think of the chapter, and the story in general. What you've liked, what you've disliked, what you would like to see, wish I'd done... and perhaps make your guesses on what's coming in the final part.

So... hope you liked this and see you soon!


	6. Where the Sky Meets the Land

Chapter summary: It is said that when one journey ends, another begins, but what about those who wish no to travel anymore, those who wish for a moment of respite, of quiet, of peace? A time comes when all people must make a choice, of the life they wish to live, what their future will be.

* * *

And here we are people! The response I got to the last piece... thank you so much! I love you all, and because I did promise... here we are. The time's come for this hell of a trip to come to an end, hope you've enjoyed the ride...

No one guessed what's coming, really, only one person tried, and even that was in the vaguest way possible. Even then, I'm sorry to disappoint you my dear, but it's not about Dany. I'll be dead serious here. Dany is a sort-of non-entity to me. I've read some fics where he's there, and he's great. Mostly he's there either because he's someone's mate (Ethan's, Cora's, Issac's, or even Jackson in one particular fic), or because he's magical and a great support for Stiles. Those weren't possible here. Here Lydia was the one there for Stiles every step of the way, she's his best-friend, his sister in all the ways that matter; there was no way to introduce anyone else, and I wanted to give their connection the place it deserved in this. I've no doubt that Dany was around, he was still Jackson's best-friend, but he just wasn't as important. Again, to those who truly love Dany, my apologies.

As for the actual surprise in this... when I posted the very first piece: 'A Kiss in a Dream', which ends with Stiles and Lydia being thrown back in time, and we don't yet know when they're going to land... I had most of my readers asking me for something, a very specific thing. I apologized in the next part for not being able to deliver, but Lydia and Stiles landed where they had to in order to make the story possible, any other point of time and the story wouldn't be what it is... and yet, I have to admit, my readers weren't the only one who wished and wondered and so... here we go now! (If for whatever the reason you still have no idea what I'm talking about, you'll find out soon enough). Without further ado, here we go, enjoy Time River's finale!

* * *

**Where the Sky Meets the Land **

Lydia lands with an 'oof' as the wind is knocked out of her rather abruptly. They were taken completely by surprise, and all she could do was roll into as tight a ball as she can and do her best to protect her head, neck and chest. Stiles, while as surprised as her, does have a level of physical skill that she lacks, which allows him to not just go into a ball but land and roll to absorb the impact. He also continues the roll until he's back on his feet, the mercury of his triquetra tattoo slithering down his arm and into his hand for him to wield as a weapon at a moment's notice.

Lydia, on the other hand, waits until she's sure she can breathe right before going to her knees, and then slowly onto her feet. Her skirt is torn on one side, her blouse more than a little dirty, but other than that she's quite alright. The jacket (and thank the spirits that she's long since learned not to go anywhere without that jacket on!) protected her for the most part. She'll have to pick a few sticks and leaves out of her hair, but she didn't actually hit her head, so it's alright.

"Fucking Morrell!" Stiles snarls, voice dripping venom.

Right, they were taken by surprise by none other than Marin-freaking-Morrell. Lydia would feel ashamed, or perhaps embarrassed, but in the end the anger is too great to allow for any other emotion. She knew Morrell was going to be a problem! Knew yet did nothing about it, because they had no 'probable cause'…

It's been two years since the confrontation between the Hale pack and the Alpha Pack. One that changed a great many things. After some conferring Derek decided to just exile the former-alpha twins, rather than hurt them further. He suggested they might want to head Northeast, to an old ally of Talia Hale's: Satomi Ito. She was alpha of her own pack, the closest to Beacon Hills, and might be willing to help the twins, give them a chance; something not many would do, knowing they'd killed their old pack (whatever their reasons might have been, few packs are willing to take in someone who's destroyed their whole pack).

Deaton died less than a week later, which brought about some trouble with Scott. Who had the gall to go to the sheriff to 'express his suspicions' about the Hales, and how he 'feared they were leading Stiles down the wrong path', and were probably responsible for Deaton's death. The boy completely forgot that Noah had been right there in that clearing, outside the warehouse the night the Argent hunters faced-off against the pack. He really didn't like it when Noah very calmly informed him that Derek and Peter couldn't have done anything as they were at the Stilinski place all week, reconnecting with the newly arrived Cora.

As it happened, it was pretty much Deaton's own fault he died. Knowing the implications of being judged by the Mother, he still tried to cheat, to steal power from the Nemeton. Under normal circumstances the Mother would have left him powerless; which he probably knew. He refused to accept that, he'd always had a fixation with power and obtaining it. So when he tried to cheat, the Mother let him take, not the purified power, but the poison left in the Nemeton. Deaton was dead before he realized his mistake.

Thankfully Chris Argent decided to take both Allison and Scott away for the summer. Took them with him to France, to the seat of power of the Argent Clan. Where older and wiser hunters taught the two teenagers the right way of doing things. Because apparently the majority of that Clan wasn't as psychotic as Gerard and Kate. The three returned to Beacon Hills at the end of the summer, with a formal apology from the Argent Matriarch: Cécile Argent and a request that Chris and the two teenagers be allowed to settle in Beacon Hills, with reassurances that the Hale Pack and their authority over Beacon Hills and the county as a whole would be respected. None of them really trusted the Argents, but refusing would have left the territory open for other hunters, so in the end… the 'devil that one knows' and all that. Things worked out fairly well, at least the Argents hadn't gone after any of them, and the few times they'd hunted Chris made sure to check in with either Derek or Stiles that the one they were going after wasn't there with permission. It worked well enough for them all.

The pack had taken the summer to fully establish themselves; Erica, Boyd and Issac taking the bite and, along with Jackson, learning how to be wolves. They all took to it like ducks to water. In a short time they became the pack Stiles and Lydia always knew they could be, yet hadn't had the chance to the first time around.

In the past two years they had only really had small troubles, nothing to put them in any real danger. Stiles had a bit of a panic when he remembered the Darach, about a week or so after the confrontation with the Alpha Pack, only for Peter to inform him the matter had been handled (he still remembered all the things Stiles had told him while he was in the hospital, he'd remembered the Darach, and when seeing a suspicious woman with terrible scars trying to do some obscure ritual at the remains of the Nemeton the night after Cora's return, Peter went ahead and killed her before she could so much as suspect how much things had changed).

There were no worries about the Dead Pool, as no one really had the access to the kind of funds that would be necessary to get such a thing done (also, once Stiles was at full power he began working on new wards that would ensure he'd know about any threat entering the territory before they had a chance to hurt them in any way). The threat of the Dread Doctors had been neutralized years earlier, with a very conveniently 'anonymous call' of a 'concerned citizen' regarding dangerous practices at Eichen House. The Sheriff Department, the Health Department, and even the FBI had fallen all over the psychiatric hospital, which was closed once authorities discovered the ideas some of the doctors had about the kind of experiments that should be allowed. So there were no dread doctors, no chimeras, no risk of the Beast of Gévaudan making an appearance, or the Wild-Hunt. And of course, the nogitsune had long since been neutralized.

Stiles and Lydia missed Kira. It was probably the one downside to all they had prevented. With no nogitsune, Noshiko Yukimura had no reason to move her family from New York to Beacon Hills, so the pack never met Kira. All the same, they hoped that meant the young kitsune would get the chance to develop her powers in a less traumatic manner.

And of course, there was Marin Morrell. No matter what they tried, what plans they came up with, in the end there was nothing they could do. Because Morrell hadn't been with the Alpha Pack the night of the attack, nor had she gone after any of them afterwards. She hadn't even intervened in the mess with Deaton. They all searched high and low but there was nothing that they might use against her. For all intents and purposes Marin Morrell was like any other citizen, a simple woman, counselor at the high-school, with somewhat exotic interests, but nothing more. And Noah drew the line at them making up something in order to go against her, or killing her without justification (Peter didn't like it but he apparently held Noah in high enough regard not to go behind the sheriff's back).

A part of Stiles had actually hoped that Morrell might leave them alone this time around. That she might realize how bad an idea it would be to antagonize them and just live her life and let them live theirs… he should have known he was asking for too much. The bitch was too power-hungry in the end. And of course that meant trouble for them all.

"Where the hell are we?" Stiles asks, trying to dust himself as much as possible.

"Exactly where we were before Morrell's spell backfired… or whatever the hell it did there at the end." Lydia answers, uncomfortable.

"Not possible." Stiles shakes his head emphatically. "Lyds, this isn't our Nemeton!"

As he says it he waves a hand at the dark stump beside the both of them. It's so dark it seems to be almost absorbing the light all around it.

"No, but it is a Nemeton." Lydia states calmly.

"A…" Stiles cuts off as his mind comprehends the implication. "What the fuck?! Time travel is not possible, just not possible Lydia! Not in any other way but the one we did it in any case, which is impossible anyway seeing how last time I checked the world wasn't ending!"

"Stiles… Stiles breathe!"

It takes Stiles longer than he's willing to admit to get himself under control. He knows it's not Lydia's fault. It's no one's fault but the bitch that did the spell that somehow ended with all of them there. But truth is Stiles is tense, has been tense for a while. Good as the last couple of years have been for him, for the whole pack, that doesn't mean they've been easy.

It was easy to forget sometimes that just because his dad understood that he and Lydia weren't really teenagers, that didn't mean the rest of the town did. It was made even harder when certain individuals who were once considered friends, almost family, set out to make life even harder for him, for all of them.

Stiles hadn't thought much of it the first time he and Derek went out for lunch together, following the declaration of their feelings. It wasn't anything huge, they just went together to their favorite diner in town, had burgers and curly fries, and afterwards shared a huge sundae. She could see Mandy, Stiles's favorite waitress, practically doing heart-eyes as she watched them. And old Mrs. McCallister, the old cook, even went out, spatula in hand, to warn Derek about 'treating her boy right'. Stiles blushed, Derek sputtered and they all had fun.

Days later came the trouble. Stiles had decided to work as a volunteer at the hospital again. Mostly to have something to do. While Derek assured him he was always welcome with the pack. Noah had pointed out how it'd be a good idea for all of them to be more visible in town. There was less chance for the hunters to ever move against them if they were known and respected members of the community. Which was why Stiles was a volunteer at the hospital, Derek had joined the force as Noah's newest deputy, Peter was in the process of reopening his firm, with Jackson's help (which had the additional benefit of making his father happy that Jackson was finally interested in Law, and allowing him to stay in BH when he got that offer in London), Erica got a summer job at the flower-shop, while Boyd did the same at the auto-shop and Issac at the library, Malia took turns doing some secretary work at the Sheriff's station, and other times at Peter's firm while Cora attended summer school to be on the same level as the rest of the teens.

The trouble came when Rona and several of the other nurses cornered Stiles on his second day back as a volunteer. Supposedly they were worried about him and the things the 'older boy' might be getting him into. And it didn't matter how many times Stiles insisted that everything was just fine, they were convinced he was too young to know better, that he needed to be protected. That little episode had ended with him blowing up at Melissa, as it was she who 'recruited' the rest of the nurses into doing an intervention.

"_I'm just trying to help you Stiles!" She snapped at him, angry that Stiles wasn't thankful. _

"_Really?!" It hurt Stiles, the way she was acting; Melissa was as good as a second mother to him, and for her to treat him like that... "Tell me something Ms. McCall, when was the last time you saw me?" He didn't even wait for an answer. "I'll tell you, it was over nine months ago, the last time Scott ended at the hospital due to the asthma. Wanna know why? Because after finding himself better, Scott forgot all about me. He became Mr. Popular, found himself a girl, other friends and he no longer cared for little-old-me. But that's alright, it's not like I was jealous of him or anything. The thing is. You didn't notice that Scott and I no longer hung out. I could bet you've no idea who he hangs out with nowadays. Yet when Scott went and told you that Derek was wrong for me, or whatever the hell else he told you, you took it at face value. Rather than ask me what was going on, you decided to recruit Rona and the others to, what? Tell me that you know better even though it's my own freaking life?! Do you think so little of me that you think I would be so stupid to get into a bad relationship? Do you think so little of my father that you believe he wouldn't know if I need help? I love you Melissa, I do, you've been like a second mother to me, but truth is that you don't know me anymore. And you don't care to." _

_That was the part that hurt the most. If she had gone to him. Had expressed her worry, asked if he was alright, he'd have understood; Stiles would have even appreciated it, knowing she still cared. But the way she went about it… all she managed to do was treat him like a little kid. _

_Stiles quit his volunteer work before the end of the week. And to prove a point, he spent the next couple of weeks dropping lunch for both his dad and boyfriend at the station, kissing Derek in front of everyone (short, tender, chaste kisses). Everyone knew what he was doing and why, and Noah even made a point to make everyone aware that yes, he knew Derek was dating his son, there was nothing untoward going on and he approved. _

Lydia saved Stiles from going nuts out of boredom that summer, as the two ended signing up for online college courses; which they also continued after the end of the summer. They wouldn't graduate early, nowhere near ready or willing to leave the pack behind, but still, it helped.

By the time Stiles turned eighteen, early on in their senior year, all of Beacon Hills had long since grown used to the fact that the Sheriff's son was dating deputy Derek Hale, and they were pretty serious about it. Also, he was planning on finishing his online Bachelor's Degree in Criminal Justice (from the California State University in Sacramento) at the same time he got a degree in Liberal Studies. He could have gotten into many other colleges, both in and out of State, but the thing was, he didn't want to. He had already done the whole, 'going to the other coast', had the 'college experience', and it hadn't been that great. Now he was happy, with Derek, and the pack. Lydia was still going to MIT and Jackson to Harvard, and once they were done there they'd be returning to Beacon Hills. Malia was going with him to Sacramento. Erica and Boyd weren't interested in college, happy enough to take their part-time jobs to full time and continue as they had (they were also soon to marry), while Issac and Cora would be attending the closest Community College, not interested in more than that. Dany… while he knew about the pack, he never became really close with anyone other than Jackson and had several companies fighting to have him work for them, even before college! So he was likely leaving BH to never return.

In any case, with so many of them, especially Stiles himself, about to leave Beacon Hills for an extended period of time, they decided some changes needed to be made to the wards. They needed other ways to know when someone entered the territory, as Stiles wouldn't be there to deal with the early warnings. So they set to changing the wards, never expecting someone to try and take advantage, believing them to be vulnerable. Lydia and Stiles had gone to the site of the Nemeton, where the remains of the old tree-stump had finally returned fully to the ground, which meant that in due time, another tree, a new Nemeton would take its place. Still, it was the best place to do magic concerning the wards, as it was the center of the ley-lines. The last thing they expected was to find none other than Marin Morrell, trying to lay claim to the power in the place. Stiles reacted instinctively, seeking to stop her and then… something happened. Next thing they knew Stiles and Lydia were landing on the dirt-ground beside the stump of the Nemeton…

"We need to get to the town." Lydia decides. "We need to find out when we are exactly."

"This is insane Lyds," Stiles ran a hand through his hair in a nervous tick. "How are we even going to get back home? Can we even get back home? What if…?"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Lydia calls until she has Stiles's full attention. "We will find a way. I don't know what it'll be yet. But we're still here, and we're not the kind to give up. If we didn't give up on the face of the end of the world, we won't give up now. Our mates won't give up on us either. We'll find our way back home."

The next surprise comes when the pair manages to step out of the forest and onto the highway, to find a car waiting for them, with a woman behind the wheel.

"Nana?!" Lydia exclaims, unable to control herself.

"Hello my darling," Lorraine greets her with a warm smile. "Everyone's in a tizzy since you got here." She turns her eyes to Stiles. "Young mage…"

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Martin." Stiles recovers as fast as possible.

"Get in my darlings." Lorraine orders. "We have much to do if you're to stop the black witch before she ruins this world irremediably."

"Morrell is here?!" Stiles hisses even as he climbs into the back of the car, he's not even sure why he's surprised.

It turns out that Lorraine knows a lot. She's a banshee, not quite on the same level as Lydia (then again, Stiles doubts anyone ever has or ever will be at Lydia's level), but well in-tune with the supernatural. She tells them they've landed in January, the 21st. Until the day before Lorraine had been hearing whispers about a great tragedy coming their way, and then… the moment Stiles and Lydia arrived all whispers stopped, it's like no one knows anymore what's going to happen.

Lydia cannot miss the way Stiles tenses when her grandmother mentions the date:

"Stiles…" She murmurs, worried.

"It's the 21st…" Stiles gasps. "We're four days away from the Wolf Moon…"

The night when Kate Argent killed the Hales, the night Derek lost most of his family.

"You cannot ask me to stand back and do nothing Lydia." Stiles murmurs, voice tight due to the knot in his throat. "I… I know there's nothing I can do for my mom. Hers was a natural death, much as I might hate to admit it. Even now, the tumor will already be in her head. I cannot do anything for her, it would probably go against the Fates, most will argue that it's her time, I've accepted that. But the Hales? You cannot tell me that was in any way natural. And I know that this is not our universe, what we do here won't change anything in our own world, but I cannot be here, on this date, and do nothing. I cannot fathom going back home, facing my mate, and tell him I had the chance to save a version of his family and did nothing. I cannot…"

"Okay." It takes a while, and several repetitions for Stiles to process what Lydia's saying.

"Okay?" Stiles echoes, not quite believing what he just heard.

"Nana says that the Fates are giving us carte blanche." Lydia explains. "From the moment Morrell came to this world, its destiny was up for grabs. She's interfered in events that were meant to be, and because of that, so can we."

"What's the catch?" Because it all sounds too good to be true.

"Well, Morrell is still here too, she's likely to interfere, so we'll have to be careful with that." Lydia points out the obvious. "Also, we cannot stay here long. We're too powerful and there's already a version of us with our same potential existing in this dimension. No dimension will be able to hold two of each of us for any real length of time. We have at most a fortnight before the situation becomes untenable."

"So, what's the plan then?" He asks.

"Well, we'll be staying with Nana at the Lake Cabin." Lydia explains. "She sensed us coming so she's told people that a nephew and niece of Maddy would be visiting her for a few days. So if anyone sees us we're Miko and Lilla Wójcik."

Stiles cannot help the way his nose twitches. He knows Lorraine had to have used his real name as a basis for that one. It's not as bad as it could be, but still not what he would prefer. Then again, he cannot use the name Stiles, that one is too distinctive, and the last thing he needs is to call undue attention to the ten-year-old child version of himself.

"Okay." Stiles nods, turning to Lorraine. "Thanks for your help ma'am."

"The pleasure is all mine young man, if all goes well you'll leave my world far better than what it would have been without your intervention." Lorraine states with a small smile. "Also, I'm delighted to get the chance to see my granddaughter all grown up…"

Stiles knows Lorraine, or their version of her at least, died when Lydia was in her early teens, and that was after spending over a year as a patient in Eichen House, after losing all touch with reality. It makes him wonder if they, or at least Lydia, might be able to change that too.

"Nana and I will try to find a way to get us back to our universe before our presence here becomes a problem, and you'll find a way to save the pack." Lydia finishes.

Stiles nods. He doesn't even need to think about it. He knows exactly what he's going to do.

**xXx**

On Sunday evening Stiles steps out of the old warehouse in the industrial sector of Beacon Hills and calmly walks straight from there and into the forest, the magic in his boots ensuring he'll leave no footprints or tracks of any kind. He's completely calm, not bothered at all by what he's left behind in that warehouse, though he knows a few people will be deeply disturbed once they find it. The 'it' being none other than Kate Argent, laid out on a table, dead, with no outward sign of damage… other than the fact that she has no face. That and an old and crude-looking silver coin engraved with the profile of a faceless head working as a calling card of sorts.

Both details will connect Kate's murder to the Order of the Faceless Men. An ancient religious guild of assassins, said to have existed since before the world, the continents, were as they were known nowadays, before known history. They venerated Death as a god, believing that every religion in existence had a version of the god of death or, in the case of monotheistic religions, they venerated death in one form or another. Therefore Death was a god with many faces, and no face at all. The Faceless Men were meant to be acolytes of that religion, and they venerated their god by sharing the 'gift' of death. The order had almost completely disappeared before known history, almost, but not completely.

Stiles knew because he met one of them, back when he was in the last phase of his training to be a federal agent. He'd been invited to an operation, they were busting a human-trafficking ring (suspected of dealing with children of supernaturals) mostly as an observer. It was the first time they invited him since the mess where Derek almost ended killed (back in his first year of training) and Stiles took it very seriously, knowing he couldn't mess it up. He hadn't been expecting to see the blonde man protecting several girls (witches, as Stiles would later learn). Stiles was the only one who saw the mobster about to shoot in their direction; he wasn't supposed to get involved, he was supposed to only observe… but he was never the kind to stand back and do nothing, especially not when someone was in danger. So Stiles didn't think much about it when he pulled out his own gun and shot, one single bullet, and took down the mobster. He had to endure his supervisor nearly screaming his ear off, and being forced to do a hell of a lot of paperwork as he justified his actions six ways from Sunday; but in the end he also got a commendation for quick thinking and good aim. He also ended, unexpectedly, with a man following him around, claiming to owe him a debt, two lives, for those Stiles had saved.

Stiles hadn't thought much of the man at first. Thinking him nothing more than some kind of paganist or practitioner, or whatever. Even when the man kept popping in wherever Stiles might be every few weeks and asking for names, Stiles mostly ignored him. He did look up what little the man gave him, found out all there was about the Faceless Men, little as the information was. It intrigued him, that most insisted the Order to either be extinct, or nothing more than a fanciful tale of men that never existed.

He did learn a few things from the man. Which he insisted on teaching Stiles as a way to try and pay back the debt, since Stiles wouldn't give him names. It was from him that Stiles learned how to lie without anything giving him away. He'd been quite good at twisting the truth beforehand, thanks to being around werewolves so much and the way they could hear his heartbeat and detect lies, Stiles had forced himself to learn. But there was a difference between twisting the truth in order to conceal something and outright lying and not getting caught. The last time Stiles saw the man was the day before he quit the FBI, right as everything finally went to hell. He would never forget that last conversation:

"_You know, I think I might actually miss you." Stiles had admitted with a small smile. _

"_A boy cannot miss one who's no one." The man had replied evenly. _

"_Yes, even with your headache inducing speech patterns, I will still miss you." Stiles had replied with a bigger smile. "I will never understand you, but then again, I've long since grown used to not understanding things." _

"_A boy is wise when he accepts that not all can be understood." _

"_I really could have never been one of you." Stiles had shaken his head. _

"_A boy cannot be Faceless when he refuses to be no one." _

"_Indeed, and I refuse to stop being who and what I am. I'm happy being Stiles Stilinski." _

"_Even though a boy conceals his own name, and still owes two names to the Many-Faced God." _

"_Don't you think enough people have died already? And a hell of a lot more will die before the end. I cannot even think about being the reason for more deaths." _

"_All will die before the end, that is why it will be the end. But the end will not come when most expect it to. A boy and a girl may change the course of Fate yet…" The man had shaken his head. "A boy will not give names then?" _

"_No, I will not. But if I may, if you find someone whose death would help save lives, consider those to be the names I owe." _

"_It goes against tradition, for names to be chosen thus, but a man will do as a boy has asked." _

It was the last time Stiles saw him, though as he was leaving Quantico the next day he couldn't help but overhear some whispers about their boss and how he hadn't been to work that day. A part of Stiles did wonder… but in the end he needed all his focus to get away from there without being arrested for suspicious behavior or something, so he pushed it to the back of his mind and eventually mostly forgot about it.

If Stiles were to be completely honest (which he tries to be, at least with himself), he didn't really think much about the man after leaving the FBI. Even when he and Lydia jumped to the past… not until much later, when one of his nightmares reminded him of that particular conversation, he couldn't help but wonder how much the man might have known of the future. Still, it wasn't like he could ask. He researched the Order once, when he had nothing better to do and was getting bored, didn't find much more than the first time around, but still, it was interesting.

Stiles wasn't even sure what made him think about the Order exactly, but the memory gave him an idea. Not specifically in regards to killing Kate Argent, he always knew he was going to do that, from the moment he realized they had a chance at saving the Hale pack. He knew he couldn't just stop Kate, he had to ensure she wouldn't be coming after the Hales, not then, and not ever. It wasn't like he could take the blame, and not only because of his younger self; but neither could he give the hunters nothing, if he did that he had no doubt Gerard would find a way to blame the Hales and go after them himself. There was still a chance that might happen. But the Faceless Men… the Argents would know who those were, and that there was no way for them to know why Kate had been targeted exactly. No one knew why the Faceless Men accepted certain targets and not others, and while they were said to charge greatly for any kill, it was also said that most of the time it wasn't money they were interested in. So he didn't even need to give a reason; just, the lack of a face on the body and the engraved coin would be enough to point the Argents in that direction. It was insane, no matter how one looked at it, and it wasn't like Stiles was actually a Faceless Man or anything, but as long as the Argents believed it, that would be enough. And not like the Argents knew anyone from the Order well enough to confirm or deny anything.

Stiles walks through the preserve for a while, not yet ready to go back to the cabin. It's not that he feels bad about what he did. Though a part of him cannot help but think that part should actually bother him. But it's been a long time since he's seen Kate Argent (any version of her) as truly human, as deserving of anything other than death. It's not like he derived any particular pleasure from killing her; he doesn't enjoy killing, but he does understand that sometimes it might be necessary in order to protect those he considers his. Strictly speaking the Hale pack in that universe might not be his, but they're still a version of his pack, they are a Derek's pack, and Derek is and will always be his true mate. There's simply no reality in which he wouldn't do anything for him to be happy. Even if Derek may never know it…

Eventually he finds himself on the edge of the preserve, looking at a street he knows well, his street. At the end of it is a park. Where he comes from it's abandoned and has been for close to a decade but in this world, in this time, it's still in good enough condition and right there, sitting on a bench, is the reason for him being there: Claudia Stilinski nee Wójcik… his mother. The mother he lost so long ago is sitting right there, at the beginning of the end.

Stiles didn't notice it when he was the child playing in the park. He didn't miss the fact that something was wrong with his mom, of course he didn't, he wasn't that oblivious. The way she began forgetting things. So he made a point of always staying near his mom, he made sure to memorize the right way home, so when they went on an errand or another, he knew how to get back home, in case she ever forgot. He was right there in the kitchen when his mom would cook, supposedly because he wanted to learn, though the truth was he wanted to make sure they wouldn't end with completely blackened food and a burnt pot, again. He convinced his mom to make all sorts of lists, she thought it was his way of coping with the ADHD, but it was his way of making sure they wouldn't forget anything (since he wasn't yet old enough to know all they needed to get). He had known all that, but he hadn't known what it meant. Even when his dad was finally forced to take his wife to the hospital and she stayed there, Stiles still hadn't understood. No one would tell him why his mom wouldn't return home…

And there she is, just a day away from going to the hospital, from leaving home and never returning. Stiles knows he's torturing himself. Like he told Lydia, there's nothing he can do for his mom, he's painfully aware of that. Her death was natural, as terrible as that might be. Even if he were to reveal himself to the Hale pack (and not end up getting killed), if he managed to convince Talia… there's no guarantee that the bite would take, and the chances of it helping her condition at all aren't high. Frontotemporal dementia is a degenerative disease, there's no guarantee she would be healed… and if there were a magical solution he'd have found it already. He really would have, he researched it, extensively. Terrified that he might have been able to do something if he'd just been aware of his magic earlier. Eventually he was forced to accept that no matter how powerful he might be and all the resources he might have at his reach, there's nothing he could have done to save his mom.

Still, a part of Stiles just wants, needs to see her. To remind himself of what she looked like before she forgot so much she stopped being the mother he loved (never stopped loving, even if she was no longer herself, not really), before she forgot him… so that's why he's there, like he was the two previous days, watching from the shadows. It's a bit stalker-ish on his part, he knows, and if his dad or someone else from the sheriff's office finds him he'll be in a hell of a lot of trouble, but in that moment he just cannot bring himself to care.

**xXx**

Stiles takes walks on Monday and Tuesday, making sure to walk by the sheriff's office, it's until Tuesday afternoon that he hears anyone talking about Kate's murder, apparently her body's just been found. That shocks him, while at the same time confirming that she was mostly alone in the actual planning of the Hale fire; otherwise someone would have noticed her absence earlier. In any case, several deputies are talking none-too-quietly about the bizarre case, it's clear that nothing close to exciting has happened in Beacon Hills in years, probably decades, and Kate's murder is freaky enough to keep everyone's attention.

Even after that Stiles cannot help but spend Tuesday night awake. Sitting on the window-seat of the little bedroom he's using in the cabin, all his senses focused on the ley-lines and the distant howling. He finally falls asleep shortly after moonset, satisfied that it has worked.

Wednesday comes, then Thursday, and Lydia still doesn't seem to have a solution for them going back home. He's also apparently getting on their nerves, for a moment comes when Lydia gets on his face and tells him in a very no-nonsense tone to go take a walk. Stiles rolls his eyes, but he knows better than to mess with Lydia when she's exercising her genius, so he wishes them luck and walks out. When running errands he tends to take Lorraine's car, as she's always offering it, but any other time he'd rather walk. Even if the woods around aren't his woods, he still feels a bit at peace in them, so he goes.

He doesn't plan to end up at the old park at the end of his street, but somehow he does anyway. And that's when he gets the first big shock of this trip. When he sees his mom sitting on the same bench as always, laughing at something or other the ten-year-old version of himself just did. She's there! She's laughing! She's not in the hospital! Stiles has no idea what the hell is going on! His shock is so great he doesn't even realize when his feet lead him straight to the bench until he's standing just by it, less than five feet away from Claudia.

"I was wondering if you would ever leave the shadows and come talk to me." She says, not quite looking at him, though it's clear she's talking to him.

"I… I didn't… I… what?!" Stiles is completely at a loss for words, not exactly the norm for him.

"I know who you are Mischief." Claudia tells him, finally turning to look at him. "Do you truly believe I could lay eyes on my son and not know him?"

"But I… I don't understand." Stiles admits very softly.

He feels so lost right then. Like when he was eleven and sat curled up at the end of his mom's hospital bed, Melissa McCall trying to coax him off there, trying to explain to him that he could not stay, that his mom was gone and not coming back. But Stiles just couldn't let go, it felt to him like, if he did, he would be giving up on his mom, would be turning his back on her, as if he were killing her himself… it was completely irrational of course, but Stiles never claimed to be the most rational person…

"Your lady-friend came to see me on Saturday." Claudia explains. "She said that she's as good as your sister, and that she knows how much you love me, and thus couldn't just stand back and do nothing." She smiled softly at Stiles. "She cannot heal me of course. What I have has no cure. But she gave me something, a tincture. Said it would protect the part of my brain that holds all my precious memories. So I won't forget anything else. No matter how bad things get, I'll never forget you, or your dad, or myself…"

Stiles cannot help himself, he bursts into tears, dropping into the bench, where Claudia embraces him without thought, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"It's alright mój ukochany (my darling)," Claudia whispers into his ear as she sways back and forth with him in her arms. "I am here… Mama's here…"

All Stiles can do is hold back as tightly as he dares and cry. He cries all the tears he's been holding back since about a month after the funeral, when he realized that his dad was as lost without Claudia as Stiles himself was, and if they were going to survive the loss of her one of them would have to step up, be brave and take care of things. His dad was in no state to do it, so Stiles did his best to push all the pain as far into the back of his mind as he could, took a deep breath and became the caretaker in the family. He knows his dad regrets that, regrets not being the father he should have been, regrets all the ways Stiles was forced to grow up too soon. Stiles does too, in some ways, but in others… he's quite sure that the only reason he survived some of the things the universe has thrown at him is because of all the things he was forced to learn after the loss of his mom.

Still, it feels good, letting it all out, grieving the way he hasn't allowed himself to in so long. What feels even better is to have his mom right there, whispering all sort of polish endearments into his ear. He's missed that so much! And the thought that there's a version of himself that will not have to suffer his beloved mother forgetting him, looking at him like a strange like a… it brings him great comfort, even if it's not him exactly.

When the sun sets and Claudia has to return home with the ten-year-old version of Stiles, the older boy promises to meet her at the park every day he's in that universe, he wants the chance to make as many memories with her as he can before leaving. Then he takes the long way back to the cabin, where he places a cup of Lydia's favorite jasmine tea on the table before embracing her tight, pressing his forehead against her neck.

"Thank you…" He whispers into her skin, voice damp with all the tears he's cried through the day, yet he feels not an ounce of shame for them.

"You're welcome." Lydia smiles as she answers, both the words and the hug.

There's a part of Stiles, a hurt that had existed for so long, that's finally, at long last healed. It's something he could have never imagined, and is so very grateful for it… really there's a reason he's loved Lydia since he was about eleven or twelve. Even if for a while there he confused the kind of love he felt for her, he got it right eventually. Lydia is his sister and she always will be.

**xXx**

Of course, because it's too much to ask that things be solved easily, Gerard Argent arrives on Friday, and he immediately begins making threatening noises towards the Hales. He's convinced that they're somehow connected to his daughter's murder even though, until he screamed those things at Talia and Zachery in the middle of Main Street the Hales hadn't even known that his daughter was in town, much less that she was dead. Well, Derek knew, though he did not know that Kathy Vermeil was Kate Argent. Learning that has apparently been enough to traumatize Derek to the point where he's hardly left the house in days (still better than having to suffer through the loss of all but one member of his pack, or so Stiles tells himself).

It all comes to a head on Sunday night. If Stiles is perfectly honest he's not even surprised. The Sheriff asked the Hales (the ones from out of town, whom everyone believed were visiting for Talia's mother's birthday) to stay around for a few days, while they looked into Mr. Argent's accusations, and Talia agreed. Lydia was sure that was mostly because she knew that if any wolves were to try to leave the hunters would have pursued, and there was safety in numbers, especially with the human authorities keeping an eye on things. Of course, they should have known Gerard was insane enough to act even with so many eyes on him. The sun set a few hours earlier, but the moon has yet to rise when Lydia rushes out of the cabin to where Stiles is burning some time engraving a crude silver coin with the symbol for the Faceless Men. Just in case he were to need it. He doesn't even need her to say a word, they know each other all too well. A single thought is enough for the leather jacket to fly towards him and the moment he's slipped it on he's extending a hand towards Lydia, who takes it without hesitation. A single step, and they're both inside the telluric currents.

It's insane. Stiles has never taken someone else with him when traversing the currents, not even Derek. But there's no time for them to run there, not if they wish to save everyone. So they'll do what they do best, take a risk and hope it's worth it.

Stiles steps out of the currents easily, Lydia trips a bit but in the end her own grace, and Stiles's fast reflexes help her regain her balance in a fraction of a second. Stiles is about to say something about it when the smell hits them: smoke, thick and heavy… the two teenagers look at each other for a fraction of a second, eyes wide, and then they're running.

They make it out of the preserve and into the clearing to a scene straight out of a nightmare. The Hale house is on fire, there's howling and screaming from inside. Stiles and Lydia with their own experiences, can clearly pick up on the differences in the voices between human and wolves, between adults and children and their blood runs cold. Of course Stiles has read the sheriff's report on the fire, he knows how many people were inside, how many of them were minors. But it's very different to intellectually know that eight people were burned alive inside a house, and to actually hear them…

Stiles can hear Talia roaring as she slams against the open door of the house, trying and failing to get out. His mind instantly focuses on that. He needs to focus, it's not too late yet. He rushes towards the house, intent on finding the circle of mountain ash and breaking it, when a fireball is aimed his way.

But Stiles is not alone, and his pack will always have his back. Before the fireball can get truly close to him Lydia is there, deflecting it straight back at its origin with a wave of her hand.

"I'll handle her you go get the pack out!" Lydia instructs even as she takes a deep breath to center herself, her whole attention on her chosen opponent.

Stiles takes a moment to register it's Morrell and the implications of that, but he pushes it aside a moment later. Lydia is more than powerful and clever enough to deal with a witch like Marin Morrell, and he has other priorities. A wave of his hand has the mountain ash tattoo act almost like a beacon, allowing him to find the circle keeping the Hale pack inside the burning house. Once he's found it it's simply a matter of focusing and waving his hand, and the circle is broken.

Talia is so surprised she actually stumbles, before freezing and turning towards Stiles in shock.

"No time for questions you need to get out now!" Stiles yells at them. "Get out of the house!"

He doesn't know if its the magic or his own position as alpha-mate in his own pack (or survival instincts finally kicking in), but as one all of the Hales are rushing through the door and out of the house. Stiles keeps an eye on them, especially the children. He vaguely notices when Peter and two other adults rush past the rest of the family and into the trees, probably going after whatever hunters might be in the vicinity. It will be problematic if hunters die at the hands (or rather claws) of wolves, but Stiles will focus on that later, when the whole pack isn't at risk of being burnt alive before his eyes!

"Who are you?" A woman asks him, curious.

Stiles blinks. She's petite (probably no more than five feet, if that!), with small blue eyes, blonde hair in loose curls that reach about her shoulder-blades and she's very heavily pregnant. It hits Stiles then, that he's looking at Via, Olivia Hale, Peter's wife… he's heard all about it, of course. How Peter lost his wife and their unborn child in the fire, how much it hurt him, unhinged him. And it's not like he wasn't aware of who they were saving when he went after Kate… but he never expect to actually look at them… at her.

Stiles's line of thought is completely derailed as his breath is actually knocked out of him. It takes him a moment or two to realize what just happened. He sensed rather than heard the shot and reacted on pure instinct, by angling himself in such a way that the bullet hit him on his back instead of the very pregnant woman in front of him.

Via shrieks, but Stiles ignores her as he spins around on one foot, hand already extending and calling onto the magical tattoo on his shoulder blade, the mercury coming alive and slithering down his arm before shooting straight at his target. By the time he lays eyes on the shooter he's already down, blood running down the front of his face from the perfectly round hole in between his eyes where the mercury pierced through, like a spike.

"Dad!" Chris Argent is suddenly there, horrified and gun in hand.

Stiles doesn't even blink as the gun is aimed at him. He can hear Via eep and how one of the other Hales pulls her back to protect her. He steps away from them, not wanting any stray bullet to end up hurting her, or her baby. He's the one wearing something close to body-armor, after all.

"Who are you?!" Chris demands of Stiles. "Why did you do that?"

"A man has no name." Stiles answers automatically, doing his best to imitate the old speech patterns. "You question why a man kills a hunter, but not why the hunter tried first to kill a man. That's rather short-sighted."

"What…?" Chris is clearly flabbergasted.

For all answer Stiles fishes the coin he was engraving earlier and after throwing it into the air and catching it again a couple of times throws it straight at Chris. The hunter catches it with obvious skill, but the moment he turns it in his hand and sees the engraving on the opposite side he drops it, as if burned.

"You're the Faceless Man." Chris exclaims in shock. He still has his gun in hand, but he's hesitating. "You're the one who killed Kate! But why?"

"Again the wrong question." Stiles replies. "Questioning why a man would kill a hunter, yet not what a hunter might do to deserve it."

"What could they have possibly done?!" Chris demands.

"Tell me, hunter, what happens to a wolf who breaks the Code?"

"They die!"

"And what about a hunter who breaks the Code?"

There is no answer to that, but then again, it's not like Stiles was expecting one. It was something that the Argent Matriarch mentioned the one time Stiles ended being half-forced into a meeting with her. It wasn't that bad, they signed a treaty that was meant to prevent anything like the fire, like Kate and Gerard, from happening ever again. Still Cécile Argent was a very terrifying woman and Stiles had more than a healthy amount of respect for her.

"Hunters claim to be all about justice, about the Code, but what about those who break it? What about those wolves that might seek justice? Who could possibly give it to them without fear of reprisal from hunters who believe they have a right to be judge, jury and executioner?"

"A man with no face and no name." Chris answers, finally connecting the dots the way Stiles always wanted him to. "The Faceless Men."

"You know a man does not lie." Stiles says for good measure. "You may not like it, but you know. You have known for a while."

Chris just lowers his head in grief. Stiles knows he's right. Chris knows, he just hadn't dared do anything about it. Either too afraid of making things worse, or perhaps even fearing for what may happen to his own family, his daughter, if his father ever came to see him as an enemy… Stiles has no doubt that Gerard would have been capable of the worst kind of things, even against his own blood, if he believed them to be enemies of him and his cause.

"Are you after anyone else in my family?" Chris dares ask after a long silence.

"A man with no name is not after lives, only after justice; our justice may not be the kindest, but it is at times quite necessary. The gift of death is not given lightly." Stiles has a very hard time keeping to the speech patterns and the even voice, not letting his emotions through; but he knows it's necessary to keep the charade. "Speak to your Matriarch, let her lead when you fail to find the way, and may Hunters never give those with no name a cause to seek them out again."

He knows that if anyone can stop Victoria Argent going off the deep end it's Cécile. For a hunter the Matriarch is alright. She understands the essence of the Code, and while it was certainly a failure of hers not to see how deeply her brother-in-law (Gerard) had fallen, and how he took Kate with him, Stiles knows that the sudden change in the alpha of the loup-garou made for some chaotic years in Europe, especially when the new alpha kept herself hidden out of fear of reprisals for a while. Causing an uncertainty and a vacuum of power that the Hunters had no way to fix, not until the new alpha and her mate stepped out of the shadows and owned to their new position. Then again, he knows that sometimes even those that are meant to be alphas may not be ready for it, may struggle to find their footing. It's not a crime to feel insecure. In any case, if Stiles's memory is correct Vivian and Aiden will be coming out of the shadows sometime in the Spring; which means that if Chris waits until the summer before moving (which would be logical if he wants to avoid calling attention), that'll be enough time for the Matriarch to have settled things back in Europe and turn her attention to her dead sister's remaining family.

"Stiles!" Lydia's voice pulls him out of his ruminations.

It's probably a good thing that Chris has left already. They really don't need him getting curious about him and Lydia… it wouldn't be safe for their younger selves. He and Lydia glamoured themselves practically from the moment they arrived, making them look more like they did in the other universe, it was the best choice as it's an appearance they could hold up without having to think too hard about it, yet it's still unlikely that their other selves will look exactly like that (as Lydia is unlikely to ever dye her hair black, and he really hopes the other version of him will never get a skull fracture that will change his face like that… it was miraculous enough that Stiles survived that when it happened to him).

Stiles turns towards Lydia, seeing the remains of Morrell still burning just beside her. Of course she won that fight, there was never a doubt in Stiles's mind. After all, Morrell only fancied herself a witch, Lydia's everything the other woman only wishes she could be.

"You saved us…" Talia speaks up, looking at them with a mix of wonder and doubt. "Why?"

Stiles exhales, contemplating how to answer that question exactly, when suddenly everything changes, with a piercing pain to his chest that makes him double over so sharply he almost drops to the ground. Lydia rushes to him.

"Sti…!" Lydia begins, only halfway through remembering that they aren't supposed to use their real names before anyone other than Lorraine.

"Der…" Stiles gasps, pressing a fist against his chest, panting. It takes him a few heartbeats to recover and straighten up, and even then he can still feel the phantom pain. "The connection is reasserting itself."

"Yes, I can feel my mate too…" Lydia nods with a small smile.

"Yeah well, if you get any hint from the younger version of him, it's not a huge thing," Stiles points out in a very blasé tone. "Me on the other hand…"

"Oh…" Lydia understands it then.

Stiles is on the move before he can think better about it. He walks away from Lydia, moving right through the lose formation of the Hale pack and to where a sixteen year old Derek is sitting on the forest floor, head buried in between his knees, basically having a panic attack. His sisters are on either side of him, though it's clear neither of them really know what to do or how to help him. Stiles ignores Cora's hesitant looks and Laura's low growls as he goes to kneel before Derek.

"Derek, Derek look at me!" Stiles orders, lacing his voice with just a tiny bit of magic, and leaning a bit on his power as alpha mate (without actually touching the bond, not wanting to influence him unduly). "Look at me." Once he's done that, he takes the teen-aged were's hand and presses it against his own chest, just above his heart. "Feel my heartbeat, feel my breathing, follow it. You're having a panic attack. There's nothing wrong with it, anyone in your position would be overwhelmed but you need to focus, and you need to breathe before you black out. Follow my breathing. I know you can do it. Breathe with me…"

It takes a little while, but eventually it works. Derek starts breathing, first harsh, too quick gasps, but eventually they even out and he stops looking like he's about to pass out. Even then Stiles doesn't move, he stays where he is. He knows the whole pack's eyes are on him but he doesn't care. Derek needs him, even if the teenager before him isn't his Derek, he's still a version of his mate, and Stiles will never not help him.

"Thank you…" Derek whispers after what seems like forever. "Though I don't know why…"

"I know you, better than you might expect." Stiles admits softly. "Though I suppose it'd be more correct to say I know a version of you."

"Time travel?! / A parallel universe?!" Several of the Hales call out at the same time.

"A bit of both." Stiles admits with a kind smile, eyes never straying from Derek. "I didn't exactly plan this, plan to ever have to explain anything…" He chuckles to himself. "Then again, my version of you would say I tend to act without thinking. He wouldn't be exactly wrong either. But I could sense your distress, and it's not something I could ignore."

Derek's brow furrowed and Stiles could tell he was biting his tongue not to say exactly what he thought about all that; mainly how unworthy he was of it all.

"Yes, you're worth it!" Stiles's vehement statement clearly stuns Derek. "I know how your mind works. Really, in the end you're not that different from my Derek, let me tell you. Sourwolves and broodywolves the both of you."

Cora snorts and Laura practically cackles, but it's the way Derek blinks, as if trying and failing to understand how Stiles's brain works exactly that makes the mage's heart melt.

"It's not your fault." Stiles turns more serious. "I know why you think it is, trust me, I know. But it's not. It's Kate's fault, it's Gerard's fault. Hunters… they're not bad, not all of them, but those two, they were rotten to their cores."

"And you killed them." Laura finishes, it's not a question.

"And I killed them." Stiles confirms.

"You pretended to be one of the Faceless Men, but you're not." It doesn't surprise Stiles when Peter is the one to make that statement.

"What makes you so sure I'm not?" Stiles cannot help but ask.

"Your speech patterns for one." Peter says. "You changed them the moment Argent left. Also, if you were truly one of the Order you would care about nothing beyond your mission. You most definitely would not care about my nephew."

"That is correct." Stiles nods. "I'm not one of the Faceless Men."

"Why pretend to be one then?" Laura asks.

"To give the Argents someone to blame, someone other than the Hale pack, that is." Stiles answers completely honest.

"You still haven't explained why you're so interested in our pack." Peter presses.

It's as if his words were some kind of cue, as two howls break the night. Stiles is on his feet and turning in the direction of the sound before he can even think about it. And he knows Lydia's reacting similarly. Derek and Jackson have arrived for them.

"It's time for us to go." Lydia announces.

Stiles waits but nothing seems to happen. Though once he focuses hard enough on the tree line he can see how there's a spot where the trees almost blur, like some kind of mirage… or a portal.

"They cannot cross through." Lydia informs him quietly. "They are what's keeping us tethered to our world. If they come through we'll all be trapped here, and that would be catastrophic."

Which means that Derek won't get the chance to see his family, or another version of his family. He doesn't know if that's better (it might just break his heart, to see them only to have to let them go again) or worse. But since there's nothing he can do to change it, there's no point on brooding on it. So instead he turns to look at the younger Derek over his shoulder, smiling at him:

"You'll be alright." He assures the teen-aged were. "I promise you Derek."

And then he's walking away. Lydia joins him as he walks past her and the both of them walk straight to where they can see the trees blurring. They can feel their mates pulling at them. Stiles turns to look at Lydia briefly, a part of him wondering if they've done enough. The look she sends back at him tells him they've done all they could, the rest will be up to them…

They're just stepping into the portals, hands clasped together, when words reach their ears:

"Derek…?" It's Laura, and she sounds worried as she addresses her brother.

"I think… I think that was my mate…" The teen-aged were whispers after what seems like forever, a mix of hope and a quiet devastation that makes Stiles's heart hurt.

In the end, there's nothing he can do. Either Derek will meet that world's version of Stiles, or he won't. It's not really up to him anymore.

**xXx**

The moment they step out on the other side Stiles finds himself being held tight in a pair of strong arms, against a very warm body, a nose buried behind his ear while a mouth worries at the curve of his neck. When fangs graze lightly his pulse point Stiles cannot help but melt completely, a moan escaping from deep inside his chest.

"Get a room!" Erica and Cora cry out dramatically.

Jackson just snorts before scooping his mate into his arm. Lydia giggles, actually giggles! And then the two are off.

"Well, if we're all safe and in the right universe, I'll be heading to bed now." Noah announces as he turns to leave, looking over his shoulder briefly before getting to where Peter's waiting beside his car. "Join us for breakfast in the morning boys."

Stiles blinks, trying to wrap his head around it all.

"Just how long were we gone?" He asks, turning to look at Derek.

"A few hours?" Derek suggests. "Not even half a day. Jackson and I both felt it, the moment the two of you vanished. He almost went nuts, especially when we couldn't track you. It was Peter who said that if magic had taken you here, we needed to use the bonds to call you back."

"So you roared." Stiles is beginning to understand what happened.

"So we roared." Derek agrees.

It's insane. He and Lydia were in the other universe for ten days, yet not even one passed in their own world, and clearly the pack has no idea where they even were… at least that's what he thinks, until Derek begins whining low in his throat.

"Der…?" Stiles turns to look straight at him, worried.

"You smell like them…" Derek whispers, nose buried into Stiles's hair. "You smell like my family. And… smoke?!"

Stiles exhales. Erica and the others are gone. They left at the same time Noah and Peter did. Which, Stiles decides, is probably a good thing. He hasn't yet decided how much to tell them, or if he should tell them at all. Will it help or only make things worse? Peter, will he feel better, knowing that in some other world Olivia survived the fire, that his child got to be born, to have a life? Or is it better for him to continue as he has until then, keep fighting to move on? Will it help his dad, to remember how much Claudia loved him? How she wanted him to be happy, even if she was no longer with him? Or will it just make him sad all over again? Stiles doesn't know, isn't sure if that's a decision he should be making at all. One thing's for sure though, he cannot hide the truth from Derek, nor would he want to.

"Morrell did a spell." Stiles explains what Lorraine and Lydia found out. "She still wanted the power from the old Nemeton. Thought that us changing the wards would give her the opportunity to take it. I… I'm not actually that clear on why the spell did what it did in the end but… we ended in another universe. A parallel world, on January of 2005…"

"January 2005…" Derek repeats, his voice sounding like the air's been punched out of him, he knows exactly what that date means.

"They're alive Der, all of them." Stiles nods, tears shining in the corners of his eyes. "We made sure of that. Kate and Gerard are dead, and I sent Chris with Cécile. The pack will be safe."

Derek says nothing, he just buries his head into Stiles's neck, and the teen can feel the tears as they fall onto his skin. It's okay, he gets it. So he says nothing, just holds his beloved tightly.

They just stand there, in that clearing, where the Nemeton once stood, for what seems like forever. Until Derek stops silently crying and Stiles stops running a hand through his hair.

"I want us to marry before I leave for college." Stiles announces.

"Stiles…" Derek begins.

"I know you think I'm too young, I know you're afraid that I'll regret it, that people might treat me differently for being married just out of high-school." Stiles enlists. "But it's what I want, it's what I believe we both want. And who cares what other people think? All that matters is what we know. We're already mated, we're forever…"

Derek calls Stiles's name several times in an attempt to cut off his tirade, and when that fails he finally just kisses Stiles to shut him up.

"Yes." He tells Stiles before he can start again. "Lets get married."

They weren't going to do it originally. Mostly because they're already mated, what difference did a paper make in the grand scheme of things? None at all. Also, they all remember Lydia's speech about how she wasn't going to marry Jackson until after she was done with school and had won at least one Fields Medal, because she didn't want anyone to look at her and try to make her out to be someone's wife, she was Lydia Martin and the world would know that. Stiles understands her line of thought, it comes from all the years with her mother making her feel like she needed to be a certain way, that she needed to find a husband, to be someone's wife in order to be happy. Lydia may understand where her mom was coming from, may have moved past all that since she revealed her genius to everyone, but a part of her still feels the need to prove herself. So she will go out into the world and make a name for herself, and once she's satisfied with that, then she'll marry the love of her life. Jackson doesn't care when they marry, he knows they will marry eventually, and Lydia is already his mate, to his wolf that's more than enough.

On that same vein, it was why Stiles and Derek were going to wait until he returned from college to marry legally. Only Stiles doesn't want to wait anymore. He wants Derek to be his husband. Wants to be able to say that he has the hottest, most awesome, most perfect husband in the world. Mate is all well and good in the supernatural world, but among humans, 'husband' in the word that they understand. And beyond what anyone else might say or think, Stiles wants it for himself. Wants to be able to call Derek his husband. It might seem foolish to some, but it's how he feels.

"It's not foolish." Derek assures him.

Stiles didn't even notice that he was speaking out-loud.

"I know sometimes it seems like we're not on the same page." Derek murmurs. "You remember the other future so clearly, all the good things and the bad. While to me all those things will never be more than dreams… most of them bad. But I promise you I love you, as much as any wolf can love their mate, I always have and I always will. And I know you love me, for me and no one else. That you love all of me, just like I love all of you."

Stiles just smiles. It's so rare, for Derek to be so verbose, but he loves it when it happens. It's not like he doesn't know Derek loves him. He does know, most of the time he doesn't even need to be told, he can feel it, in every fiber of his being, the very bond that binds them is formed by that love… still, it's nice to hear it every now and then.

"I love you too." Stiles agrees. "And I know you love me, that has never been in any doubt." He smiles gruffly. "Even if we have had our misunderstandings..."

Yes, but those were thankfully long behind them. The two of them had sat on Stiles's bed on that morning, two years prior; the very first morning Stiles got to wake up in his wolf's arms. They took the time to talk about everything. To discover how exactly it all affected Derek. He wasn't like Stiles and Lydia, he didn't travel back in time, not really. And yet, the manner of his own death, and the fact that he somehow ended in the middle of the magical circle (they weren't fully clear on how that one happened, as only True Alphas were supposed to be able to cross mountain ash barriers… then again, Derek was the 'True Alpha' this time around, so perhaps the potential was always there, they just hadn't known) did affect him. It was like pieces of that Derek had been sent back, not all of him, not like Stiles and Lydia, who'd done it on purpose; with Derek it was completely by accident, with no control and no finesse. And thus there were things that he remembered with perfect clarity (like how much he cared for his pack, how terrified he was of losing them… again), while others he couldn't fully grasp (like his understanding that the fire wasn't his fault); some things would come to him suddenly, in dreams (like when he stopped Laura from traveling to Beacon Hills, or when he blamed Peter for her death even without fully knowing why he did it), and others were just out of his reach (like Scott, the way things had gone with Issac the first time around, or Deucalion). It took a while, for Derek to be able to fully accept everything, to not fear those memories, or see them as a curse. Stiles was responsible for a lot of it. After all, how could it be a curse to remember someone like Stiles (even if he did curse himself for not doing something about him the first time around… thankfully he did make things better this time)?

"Come on, lets go home." Derek murmurs, kissing his mate's temple. "I've missed you."

Stiles doesn't mention that as far as Derek's concerned, Stiles wasn't gone for even half a day. A day or ten, he too would miss Derek. So of course he follows. They'll have the whole day to themselves and in the morning, breakfast with his dad… and perhaps they might begin to plan their wedding.

**xXx**

Stiles meets Lydia a few days later in the same clearing where the Nemeton once stood to finish the new warding. Stiles is the first to lay eyes on the tiny sprout just beginning to peak out of the earth. The same which shall grow and one day will become a new Nemeton… He and Lydia make sure to place all sort of protective spells upon it as well.

Once all the magic is done, the two teenagers end up sitting on a fallen tree-trunk, sharing some fruits and juice to up their sugar and energy levels. Lydia can tell from the start that something is eating at Stiles, but she knows him well enough to wait until he's good and ready to bring it up himself, rather than push.

"Do you think we did enough?" Stiles finally asks after what seems like forever.

"I think we did all we could with the time we were given." Lydia answers calmly. "And to set the stage for the future, but you need to know, not everything will be perfect Stiles, it cannot be." She exhales when Stiles eyes narrow. "I talked about it with Nana. I… I asked her to stop doing some of the things she's been doing, the things that pushed her powers too far too quickly and made her son send her to Eichen House. I want to believe that with her there, that version of me will have, if not an easier time, at least less trouble, when the time comes for her to receive her inheritance. Also, I do believe that with her around, she won't have to hide her genius the way I did."

"That's risky, for the other Lydia, and that Jackson I mean." Stiles points out.

"If they're true mates, like we are, they'll find a way… as will the other you and that Derek."

Stiles says nothing about it. Truth is, he cannot imagine how. Lydia and Jackson are one thing. Even if Lydia's no longer the Queen-bee, and Jackson's still a douchebag, they at least are the same age; there's a chance Jackson might mature early enough to see Lydia's value, to see her and come to love her. But Stiles and Derek? The only reason they ever met in this world the first time around was because of Peter turning Scott and then going around killing people, of course Stiles got involved in something that concerned his brother; and the second time around… well, all the future knowledge, his choices, meant the two of them were going to meet sooner or later. But in a world where there was never a Hale fire, never any insane alpha, no newly turned friend/brother that might pull Stiles into the supernatural… how were they supposed to meet? Still, there was nothing he could do about it, so he'd rather just not think about it. It was like Lydia said, they did all they could, the rest wasn't up to them.

Stiles knows there are things Lydia's not telling him. She's the most powerful banshee to ever be born, and Lorraine was no slouch either. There's no doubt in his mind that she must know things about the universe they've left behind, things about their future; about who might live and who might die. But she'll never tell him, and Stiles knows better than to ask.

**xXx**

Stiles and Derek marry under the Full Moon, in July 2013. What makes it most peculiar is the fact that the moon, a Super Full Moon, hits its zenith 11:15 am, instead of during the night. While wolves might be aware that the moon isn't always in the sky during the night, humans for the most part do not have that same knowledge, it simply holds no interest to them for the most part. But that was a wolf wedding. Even if the mating happened years prior, it's still the wedding of not just two members of the pack, but the alpha pair. And while Derek assured everyone that he would be just fine with a normal human wedding, it's Stiles who insisted on following Hale pack traditions. Hence why they all set to researching the exact time of the full moon, while Peter unearthed the old books and registries from the Hale Vault, looking for entries on weddings. Eventually it was Cora who found one, the entry on Talia's and Zachery's wedding. It brought tears to the remaining Hales' eyes, while the rest of the pack felt even more motivated to keep things as true to the old ceremonies as they could.

Lydia, being both a witch and the Hale Emissary, is in charge of the handfasting ceremony itself. She also decides to get herself ordained so as to be able to handle the legal side of the ceremony as well (they all thought it would be better than heading to the courthouse at some point, and it's perfectly legal in the State of California!).

The pack comes together in the Nemeton's clearing at 11:00 in the morning, Lydia timing it all precisely so that Derek and Stiles are saying their vows right as the full moon reaches its highest point, right above their heads… it's perfect (it's Lydia!):

"Heart to heart, mind to mind, soul and body intertwined. I call your spirit, set it free. I will it to return to me. As we mote it, so shall it be. As above, so below. As within, so without. Goddess Moon bring about this union that is asked of Thee. As we will it, blessed be."

"Blessed be!" The pack choruses with bright smiles.

Derek just cannot help himself as he lays a kiss on his mate's lips. Lydia just giggles:

"Hey, Lydia's not done, it's not time for the kissing yet!" It's Jackson who offers complaints in his own mate's name, though he too is smiling.

"Then finish already." Erica mutters under her breath, though almost everyone in the clearing can hear her loud and clear.

"Two entwined in love, bound by commitment and fear, sadness and joy, by hardship and victory, anger and reconciliation, all of which brings strength to this union." Lydia does get on with the last part of the ceremony. "Hold tight to one another through both good times and bad, and watch as your strength grows." She makes a pause, an almost wolfy smile on her lips before she finally says: "By the power vested in me by the Mother, and the State of California, I declare you spouses for life. Now you may kiss."

Stiles and Derek of course kiss, long and hard… until the catcalls finally make them pull apart.

The pack head from there to the Hale house for the party. The whole pack took care of hunting the day before and the grills are ready for a huge cook-out. Stiles is so happy he doesn't even try and stop his father from eating anything he wishes, though he does keep an eye on him to make sure he at least eats some of the healthy side-dishes along with all the meat.

The cook-out lasts the whole day and while Stiles knows that he and Derek will be taking off soon enough, he's just not quite ready to go just yet. He knows that's likely to be the last big party they'll all have before heading off for college, and he wants to enjoy it for as long as possible. Derek knows and agrees completely.

Through the whole day Stiles cannot help but look for his dad every so often. It's not even about the food. He promised himself not to bother his dad about that for the whole day (he already talked to Derek about keeping an eye on him while Stiles is away for college and his dear mate of course agreed). No, it's… Stiles wants his dad to be happy, it's all he's ever wanted (aside from wanting him alive, of course), but he can see that while his dad is probably content enough, he's not happy, not entirely. The teenager thinks he might know why. It's something that's been in his mind constantly since they returned from the other universe.

"Go…" Derek whispers straight into his ear, after placing a kiss on his mate's neck.

"What…?" Stiles is taken by surprise by that.

"To your dad, talk to him." Derek clarifies. "I know you want to. You've been wanting to do it for weeks. Go now…"

Stiles smiles, kissing his mate, his husband (and how awesome is that?!) full on the mouth, a deep but quick kiss. He so loves that Derek can understand him so completely and so easily… even without Stiles saying a thing. It's almost funny because Stiles is not exactly a quiet person, but like Derek once told him, he talks a lot, but doesn't really say anything. And that's true. Stiles can talk for hours about whatever topic is running through his head, and end up saying nothing of substance. Thing is, before Derek no one except perhaps his dad noticed that. Most just made a habit of tuning him out when Stiles began rambling, even Scott did. Derek was the first person outside of family to understand what Stiles did and why he did it, how oppressive the silence felt to him, how he felt the need to fill him, even if it was with nothing at all. Derek is the first person with whom Stiles has felt truly comfortable since the death of his mom not just saying things that truly matter to him, but also saying nothing at all. Derek makes him feel safe, and at peace. It's part of why Stiles loves him so much…

Of course Stiles also understands Derek, his obsession with quiet, his fear of saying too much, because he did once, and the results were too tragic to fully comprehend. Understands the value it holds, when Derek gathers the courage to talk about himself, and especially about his old pack, about those he lost. And when Derek finally finds it in himself to move on from the past, to forgive himself from the mistakes made, accepting that as awful a tragedy as it all was, in the end it wasn't his fault…

Stiles kisses his husband once more, then goes looking for his dad.

Noah is actually inside the house when his son finally finds him. He's standing in the kitchen, looking outside, at the bunch of teen-aged werewolves play fighting in the backyard, while their mates bet on them. Watching Peter call out suggestions and criticism in turns while beside him Malia just laughs at them all.

"You could go out there with them, you know?" Stiles cannot help but comment. "You're part of this pack too, dad."

"I know." Noah nods, but doesn't move to leave the kitchen.

"You know, mom loved you very much." Stiles blurts out.

The non-sequitur takes Noah so completely by surprise he cannot control himself as he spins around to face his son, his face showing absolute shock. They never talk about Claudia. It's an unwritten rule in the Stilinski household. The loss of Claudia almost destroyed both father and son; Noah lost himself in the drink and his own depression and despondency for longer than he'll ever be comfortable admitting, and Stiles was forced to grow up much too quickly. Noah got better, and did his best to make it up to his son, but neither of them have ever forgotten how bad things were for a while, and the memory of that is enough to keep them from talking about it, or about the cause of it all…

"I… I know we haven't really talked about what happened when Lydia and I went missing." Stiles murmurs, running a hand through his hair. "I… I've spent weeks with all sorts of thoughts turning and twisting in my head, trying to make up my mind. Even right now I'm not sure if I'm doing the right thing but… this feels necessary."

"Son…" Noah has no idea what else to say.

"Morrell did… something. That part's not actually important but, as a result she, Lydia and I ended in the past… or rather, another world's past. In January of 2005 to be precise…"

"January of…" Noah's voice trails off as his mind catches up with what that means.

"You remember that old playground mom used to take me to every day when I was little? The one at the end of the street?"

"I remember. It was ruined by that awful storm…"

"Yeah… I… I didn't actually plan it but I found my way there. I saw her, and little me too. I… I talked to her."

"What…?!"

"I didn't actually plan it! I knew I couldn't interfere, not with her. What happened… much as I might hate it, it was natural, I couldn't change it. So I did my best to focus on what I could change, while Lydia researched ways to get us back home… but I just… I wanted to see her, wanted to take the memory of her with me when I left. And then days passed, and I kept seeing her there. After… after the day when she was supposed to go to the hospital…" Stiles speaks faster and faster as his nervousness takes over. "I wasn't thinking, I ended going straight to her. Turns out she knew I was there, she'd seen me. And she knew who I was." He laughs, wet with un-shed tears. "She actually asked me if I thought she could not know her own son! Turns out Lydia approached her, gave her a tincture… it was no cure, nothing can cure frontotemporal dementia… but it protected her memories." He exhales. "That's why she didn't have to be hospitalized. Because she wasn't forgetting things anymore."

"So then she…"

"She'll still die, but she'll still be mom when she does." He shook his head. "I'm not saying this to make you sad dad but… she asked me to make sure you were alright. And that's what I'm trying to do so…"

"Son… I know you want what's best for me. Just like I want what's best for you, but sometimes there's just nothing that can be done…"

"Mom loved you very much…"

"I know." Noah does his best to hold back his sob, but Stiles can still hear it. "Just like I loved her, I still do, and I always will."

"You know, she wouldn't want you to mourn her forever. She doesn't want that. I know, because she told me. And I know… I know that the woman I talked to isn't actually my mom but… it's still a version of her, so it should still count right? She told me to make sure you're happy… and right now you're not happy dad. And you can be. I know you can…"

It's just for a moment, but Noah's eyes stray to the window, to those outside, to two very specific people… Stiles knows, he's known for a while.

"I know you love Peter." Stiles blurts out.

"Wha… Stiles!" Noah has no idea what else to say.

"And I think he loves you too." His son pushes on. "I… you know that's alright, right? Mom loved you, and she knows you loved her. But she wants you to be happy, to move on. You can love Peter, and that doesn't mean you have to stop loving her. It just means you love him too. And that's just fine."

He doesn't mention Olivia. That's one topic he knows would bring them nothing. Not with his dad, and not with Peter. With his dad it's one thing, because Stiles knows that there has to be something stopping his dad from moving on, and he thinks it might be the memory of Claudia, that he might feel like he cannot move on, like he would be betraying her if he does. But that's not right, which is why Stiles finally decided to tell him about his and Lydia's little trip to the other past. But Peter… what good would telling him that in another world his wife and baby are alive do? None at all. And he is moving on, he doesn't need that knowledge, not like Noah probably does. Which is why Stiles has decided not to tell him, and why he put up a little privacy spell the moment he entered the house, to ensure no one from the pack can hear what they're talking about exactly (the wolves can still hear their heartbeats, they'd probably all go nuts if they couldn't… they just cannot hear the words being said).

"Stiles…" Noah murmurs, seemingly not knowing what else to say.

"It's alright dad…" Stiles assures him.

It still takes the teenager by surprise when his dad goes to him, pulling him by the neck towards him, embracing him tight with one arm, before placing a kiss on Stiles's brow.

"You know I'll always love you too son, right?" Noah asks quietly.

"I know." Stiles nods softly. "Love you too."

Noah says nothing else, he just turns around and walks out of the kitchen and into the backyard. He says nothing at all to anyone, heading straight to Peter, where he cups the slightly shorter man's face in both hands and kisses him full on the mouth. Peter takes just a fraction of a second before getting on with the program, winding one arm around Noah's neck and the other around his back, pressing his whole body to the older man's and answering the kiss wholeheartedly. They both ignore their daughter's loud catcalls, which are soon followed by the rest of the pack's, only pulling away when oxygen becomes a necessity.

"I… I wasn't expecting that." Peter admits quietly when Noah presses their foreheads together.

Noah says nothing, just opens his eyes and arches a brow.

"I wanted it!" Peter hurries to add, along with a short, chaste kiss for confirmation. "Of course I wanted it. I just… wasn't sure you'd ever be ready."

"I wasn't sure either." Noah admits.

"I would have waited for you forever." Peter assures him.

Noah says nothing more. There's no need for any more words. Peter knows that Stiles is connected somehow, and just raises his head, searching for his nephew (Stiles is as much his nephew as Derek, was even before the two finally married) silently. He finally sees Stiles as he reaches Derek's side, kissing his new husband before they both turn to the rest of the pack. Stiles and Peter's eyes eventually meet, just for a moment, but it's enough. Peter nods once, both a thank you for whatever was said, and a promise that he will love Noah. It's not a confirmation Stiles needs, he knows Peter's not the kind to do things halfway. His dad neither. The two deserve to be happy, and now they have the chance.

"You happy now?" Derek asks his husband quietly, laying kisses on one side of his neck.

"Oh, I was already happy." Stiles assures him, tilting his neck to give his love more room. "Now… I'm ecstatic."

"You're ridiculous." Derek snorts.

"Maybe." It doesn't bother Stiles, he knows what he is and he owns it, always has. "But I'm Your ridiculous husband."

"That you are." Derek agrees wholeheartedly. "My husband… all mine."

Yeah, life's absolutely perfect…

**xXx**

In another world, another time, Claudia walks down the street, her little Mischief's hand held tightly in hers. The new park they're going to is a different one from the one they used to go, but that one was damaged during the most recent thunderstorm, with a tree actually falling on and ruining a swing-set and two slides after being hit by lightning. And, according to the Mayor, there is no budget for new ones. So, after a few days going nowhere, and after her son almost drove both her and Noah mad with his restlessness, Claudia decided it was time they found a new playground. It's entirely coincidental that said park is located in the middle of the Historic sector of town, and right across the street from the local library, where none other than Talia Hale happens to be the Head Librarian (and the one in charge of restoring books and artifacts that concern the history of the town).

Talia's having a bit of a hard day… then again, she cannot help but think that every day since her whole family got almost burned alive has been hard. Though, surprisingly enough, it wasn't precisely for that. On that front they were lucky enough to be able to count on two such staunch protectors, even if they haven't the slightest idea who they even were, where they came from, nothing at all. No, the part that has made Talia feel like every day is so hard, are the words that came from her son's mouth shortly after the Emergency Services arrived; too late to do anything more than confirm that the house was empty and there were no injured (which was only possible at all because Chris Argent had the presence of mind to take his father's body with him when leaving, while Talia's family made sure to dispose of the other hunters, and the witch… nothing was left of her but ashes by the time the other girl was done with her):

"_It's my fault… it's all my fault…" _

Everyone in the pack heard the words the Traveler, the boy who pretended to be a Faceless Man when talking to Argent, said to Derek, but no one understood, not until Derek came clean to her. About the French Teacher: Miss Kathy Vermeil, the twenty-something year old woman who seduced her son when he was grieving and vulnerable after the tragic death of his girlfriend, who effectively raped him and extracted from him information that she later intended to use to kill the Hale pack. Except the 'Faceless Man' got to her first, and then Gerard arrived…

Talia was furious, absolutely livid. And the worst was that there was no one for her to take her anger out on. Because those who went after her pack are all dead, and those who might share the name even if they weren't involved are long gone as well. And her son is so absolutely terrified that she might blame him… So Talia has to be careful what she does or says around the others, the last thing she needs is for Derek to end up even more traumatized.

It was Peter's idea for them all to go to the park in the weekends. Hoping perhaps that the humans around them might provide adequate distraction. Also, she knew, he wanted them to become more visible, believing that it might make it harder for Hunters to target them in the future, if they were well entrenched in the community. So it became habit that every Saturday, after she's finished with her half-day of work, Talia will cross the street to the biggest park in Beacon Hills and join her husband, children, brother and his own pregnant wife to have a picnic lunch and play for a while. They actually have fun most of the time, and her younger children are learning to act human sooner than they usually would, probably a good thing, in the end.

It also helped when Lorraine Martin paid her a visit, telling her about the young were-coyote girl, trapped in the shift for two years. The moment Talia found her and coaxed her back into human form she knew exactly who it was: Malia, her brother's child… a child Peter has no memory of, because Talia deemed it too dangerous. She knew the Coyote assassin would return, and the last thing she needed was for her her pack to be in danger. Also, a part of her had wanted to believe that the girl would be safe if no one knew where she was… so much for that idea, considering that her mother and sister were dead and her father was sent to a psychiatric hospital.

In the end, Talia was honest with Peter (though mostly at Zach's insistence). Peter was quite furious with her, but the moment Malia entered the room (and then went and clung to him with all the strength her child-body was capable of), all that was forgotten. Via was very understanding and quite willing for them to take the girl in. Malia's still having some trouble dealing with it all, especially the idea of a soon-to-be-born sibling, but Peter is so good at being a dad… more than Talia ever imagined possible. It makes the Alpha feel regretful, for having taken the chance away from her brother for a decade, and thankful to Mrs. Martin for going to her.

Spring comes, flowers everywhere, especially the parks, which can be a bit hard on the wolves (so much pollen) but, surprisingly enough, the children seem to love it. Talia's just entering the playground, seeing her two youngest, the twins: Jeremy and Joshua, pulling at Derek, trying to convince him to play with them when a female voice takes them by surprise:

"Stiles! Get down from there!"

It's a woman's voice. A voice none of them recognize. What some of them do know is the name… it's the same name the Girl-traveler called the boy once…

"But Mama…" A high-pitched (young, so very young) voice begins.

"Get down before you fall…" The woman insists.

The wolves track her down then. The woman has somewhat-brittle chestnut brown hair pulled back into a messy twist at the nape of her neck, her skin looks like it used to be tanned but has been losing that golden shade, probably due to not being out in the sun as often. She's wearing jeans and a pink jersey, with pink flip-flops; her amber eyes are straight on the boy with hair of a brown a shade or two darker than hers and eyes identical to hers, dressed in khaki-shorts and a dark-red t-shirt with yellow lightning in the front and red sneakers, who's perched on a tree-branch. It takes a second longer for Talia to notice the branch is breaking…

Derek is moving before either of his parents, or uncle Peter can even think about it. He runs fast, almost too fast, reaching the foot of the tree (sliding over the dirt and leaves the last few feet), just in time to catch the boy as the branch he's on finishes breaking, then rolling sideways with him held carefully in his arms, just in time to avoid the branch actually hitting either of them.

"Stiles!" The mother cries out, terrified.

By the time Derek is on his feet, with the boy still in his arms, the whole family has converged on them. The kid is holding tightly onto Derek, face buried into his neck and eyes tightly shut.

"Stiles!" Claudia repeats one more time. "Oh thank you so much! I thought for sure my baby was going to get killed! Or a bone broken or… or…"

"It's alright ma'am, he's fine…" Derek assures her, placing the boy in her arms.

It actually takes a second or two for Stiles to let go of Derek, but once he does he turns to hold onto his mother. Terrified after his fall. Claudia holds the boy tightly, taking turns to kiss his hair, berate him in a mix of English and Polish, then embrace him tighter, over and over again.

Peter actually chuckles. Derek says nothing, but he stays where he is.

"Oh, sorry, where are my manners?" Claudia asks as she notices everyone. "I am Claudia Stilinski, and this is my son, Stiles."

"Stilinski… any relation to our favorite Sheriff-to-be?" Peter asks, curiosity shining in his eyes.

"He's my husband." Claudia nods with a smile.

"What kind of name is Stiles?" Cora asks, confused.

"My name is really, really strange." The boy explains. "Very few people can pronounce it. Not even my teachers can! So I decided to just be called Stiles."

"Try me!" Cora challenges.

The mothers say nothing. Content to watch their children get to know each other:

"Mieczyslaw Stilinski." The boy announces proudly.

"Mic… Miec… My…" Cora truly tries several times to pronounce it, but keeps getting it wrong.

"Told you." Stiles smirks at her. "Just call me Stiles."

"I'm Cora." The girl offers her hand. "Those are my brothers: Jer, Josh, and Derek. I also have a sister but she's somewhere with her friends. Oh… and my cous, Malia…" when the girl won't come out from behind Peter's back, she adds: "She's really shy…"

"You have so many siblings and even a cousin?" Stiles asks, fascinated. "That's awesome! Mom and dad have no siblings, and I'm an only child, so it's always been just me… and Scott, but he cannot come to play right now, he has asthma and it can get really bad…"

Claudia smiles. She knows Stiles cares very much about Scott, they're best friends after all. And there's Heather too. But she's always felt like her son should have more than just two friends. Perhaps this is her chance.

Talia cannot believe their luck. As shocking as her son's confession regarding his relationship with Kate Argent (even if he hadn't known at the time that she was an Argent) might have been, it hadn't been the biggest shock of the night. No, that place was reserved for the other words to come out of his mouth, right after the Travelers disappeared through the magic-portal:

"_I think that was my mate…" _

Talia has spent the last few weeks trying to think of some way to find him, to find his son's mate, (or, if her brother's theory holds and the Travelers were from another world, to find their world's version of the boy at least) and all to no avail. Only for the boy to, well… basically land in her son's lap?! If she couldn't smell quite clearly how completely human both mother and child are (there's the potential for magic in both of them, though stronger in the kid, and she can also perceive the sourness of sickness in the mother, as well as herbs, probably due to some kind of remedy; and then there are the chemicals that indicate some kind of medication in the boy) she would think it a bit too convenient.

Of course Talia cannot know that while the Traveler (the other Stiles) never told the alternate version of his mother everything, he did end up saying enough for her to deduce his connection to the Hales, and that it was very important to him. Claudia doesn't know if it's meant to be love or friendship, and with whom exactly, but she knows it was important for the other version of her son, so she'll do what she can so her little Mischief will get the chance too. Which is why, when she heard Noah's comment on how good it was to see the Hales recovering after their recent tragedy and how it had become common to see them in the big playground across the street from the Library every Saturday afternoon… Claudia began making a plan. It wasn't that much of a plan, she could admit to herself, nothing more than being there with her son and hopefully find a way to for their two families to meet. Yet it seemed that Fate chose to smile upon her, so she'd be happy about that. The rest was up to the kids…

"Come play with us!" Josh calls right then, immediately seconded by his twin.

"Yeah!" Jer agrees. "Maybe if you come Der will play with us too!"

"May I? Mom?" Stiles barely remembers to ask before running before running after the two boys.

"Sure, of course." Claudia nods immediately.

She cannot help but smile as not just Derek, but Cora and eventually Malia join in and soon they are all running around. There don't seem to be any rules to the game, other than running around and screaming but they're having fun, and in the end that's all that truly matters to the adults.

"So… Mrs. Stilinski…" Talia begins.

"Please, call me Claudia." The younger mother cuts her off.

"I'm Talia." The Alpha smiles at her. "My husband Zachery, my brother Peter; and his wife, Olivia, is sitting over there. It would seem our children have become good friends."

"It would seem so." Claudia agrees. "I'm glad. Stiles has so few friends… I worry sometimes…"

Talia just smiles at her. She has no idea what the human has, but there's no doubt in her mind that she's sick, and it's serious. She'll have to seek out some counsel… though she hasn't the slightest idea from whom exactly, their Emissary up and left rather abruptly a few weeks ago, with no warning, explanation, nothing at all; and Talia hasn't found anyone to take his place yet, though she knows Peter's looking through his contacts.

"Would you like to join us?" Talia offers unexpectedly.

Claudia may not know it right then, but the offer is about more than just Claudia joining them for a picnic lunch. Even if Talia hasn't talked about it with her pack, she knows they all will agree, they cannot let go of the boy who might be Derek's mate. It would seem their pack just got bigger. It's amazing really, how just a few moons ago they came so close to losing everything, their own lives included and now… now they are growing, and thriving… it's perfect.

Hours later Deputy Stilinski joins them, walking there from the station (Claudia has the jeep with her). He's quite surprised when seeing her sitting on a picnic bench chatting with several parents. A surprise that only grows when he turns to the sound of delighted shrieks and sees his son run past, arms flailing around, while he's pursued by more than half a dozen children and a teenager who seems to be doing his best to make sure none of them fall and break something… half of them he's quite sure are Hales, though the boy with the dark-blonde ringlets definitely isn't a Hale, nor is the blonde girl who right then takes a moment to stop beside a tree, panting, though she never stops smiling, or the African American boy and the two girls…

"Hey honey…" Claudia rushes to him the moment she sees him, kissing him in the mouth.

"Hello my love…" Noah replies, kissing her back with a smile.

He knows his wife is sick, he knows he's probably going to lose her some day soon… then again, the doctors who said that were also sure she'd forget everything and essentially lose her mind even before death came for her, which hasn't happened… In any case, every day he gets to hold her in his arms, to kiss her, is such a blessing… one he'll never stop being thankful for.

"Seems like our son has made a few friends." Noah comments.

"I know, isn't that great?" Claudia smiles bright and wide. "Come on. Come meet the Hales, Laheys, Reyeses, and Boyds."

And what can Noah do but follow the love of his life? It's all he's ever wanted to do, and he'll take great pleasure in doing it for as long as he can (what he doesn't know yet is that that time might end up being a tad longer than either he, or Claudia, expected…).

* * *

So... are you happy? I certainly am. Technically this time the traveling was into another world, rather than just back in the same one, but still. It matters.

Regarding the words Lydia says during the wedding; the latter half of the speech is part of one of many handfasting ceremonies I've read through the years. It fit with this version of Stiles and Derek, I think. The earlier half. on the other hand (the vows) is a slightly modified (only with the Goddess Moon thing) part of a poem written by Leslie C. Bertrand, Paradoxical Phoenix, dated on September 9th, 2019. I was looking for something that had the whole 'heart to hear, mind to mind...' and that one came up in a facebook post. I loved it. When I tried looking it up again to possibly give a link to the original post as I was writing these notes I couldn't find it anymore. I hope there's no problem with me using it anyway and if the original writer ever wishes me to take it out I will. I hope it'll be alright though, I just loved the feeling those words gave me (and wanted to do something different from the vows I've been using in most of my weddings for years now).

For those wondering where the 'Faceless Men' thing came from. My mom and sister were binge-watching GoT while I was writing this. It was the season where Arya is in Bravoos, training to be one of them and it fit perfectly (originally I was going to make references to the Fraternity from Wanted, but GoT was heavy in my brain so...).

In case anyone was confused when Stiles said he couldn't do anything for his mom because her death was natural and fate, and then it's implied that she would be saved... I had a different conclusion for that world at first. Olivia would have her child, a son, and she would die either giving birth or shortly afterwards, Peter would be drowning in depression, with Claudia stepping in to look after both Malia and the new baby as best as she could, until Peter worked through his grief and got better. Then Claudia would die of a stroke. The shock so great, as she never seemed to have any symptoms Noah had almost forgotten she was sick, and so he falls into the same hole as the other version of him did in the original timeline, until Peter goes and snaps him out of it forcefully (he's not the kind to stand there and be kind like they were with him). Still, that would have been the basis for their eventual relationship in this other universe. Where Stiles would grow up with Malia and Oliver as his little siblings (Malia keeping Scott in line whenever he gets too self-righteous, while Stiles focusing on Oliver means he'd never pay more attention than necessary to Scott, he already has a brother).

That was the original idea, but then I was writing the meeting between Claudia and Talia and I couldn't help but have Talia invite Claudia to join them and I was all, and it doesn't need to be just for one day! There's still much that isn't known about Frontotemporal Dementia, even less was known back in 2005; Stiles knew magic wouldn't work but even he wasn't sure about the bite. Also, Lorraine herself had already said the world's fate was up for grabs so... What can I say? In the end I wanted a world where they all lived happily...

For those wondering why Deaton disappeared. You don't really think Lydia spent the whole week and a half researching with her grandmother something she never found her answer to, do you? I imagine her and Lorraine realizing on the third day at the latest that they need to be called back, and then moving onto other pursuits. Like learning from each other, Lydia telling her grandmother about all the things she discovered, like Lorraine tells her the things Lydia might not know because she's never had anyone to teach her. And on that front, I imagine Lorraine following the advice and not exceeding her own limits, thus staying around and being a good influence on that universe's Lydia; and if eventually her granddaughter needed a nudge here or there to meet her 'soul-brother', Lorraine has no trouble doing that too (no such thing would be needed between her and Jackson, those two are soulmates regardless of anything else).

So, this is it people. Time River is officially finished. I hope you've all enjoyed this, I certainly had a great time writing it. I'd love it if you were to leave comments/reviews for me one last time. And thank you all for reading!

P.S. In a few months I'll be posting another TW fic, it's a crossover with the MCU and while it's technically an AU to my Nightingale series, you will be able to read it as a Stand Alone. The premise for that fic is as follows: What if Peter had a daughter (older than Malia, a human daughter? How would loving her change him? What if Derek loved her like a sister? What would that mean for him? How much can the history of the Hale pack change when they gain their first ever human member?


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